


Sting of the Scorpion's Kiss

by InfernalBlossom



Category: Devil May Cry
Genre: Bar fights, Canon-Typical Violence, Curses, Dante tries to prove he's not whipped, Experimentation, Kidnapping, Mentions of DMC | Devil May Cry themes, Mind Control, Multi, Original Character(s), Post DMC4, Sexual Tension, Sibling Rivalry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-01-30
Updated: 2017-08-25
Packaged: 2018-05-17 05:58:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 10
Words: 38,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5856805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InfernalBlossom/pseuds/InfernalBlossom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All Dante really wanted was a still drink and some relaxation, so what harm was there in going to a local popular bar? Didn't seem like a big deal... Until his business began to lose jobs to another hunter. And to make matters worse, a new succubus comes into town, demon uprisings in town increase, Kyrie gets kidnapped again... Just another day living the occult life, he supposed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Elenay City had certainly flourished since Dante and Lady officially opened up Devil May Cry together when the two were just teenagers. Now, the city was booming with people, especially at nighttime. Many new clubs and bars had opened up, bringing in even more tourists and business than the city had ever seen. It was quite surprising to its residents to see such a boost in the city's economy and lifestyle. It was almost like Devil May Cry was a godsend for the citizens. And as everyone hoped, there were almost no demon uprisings, especially since Dante had returned from Fortuna. For once in his life, the demon slayer had a while to sit back and relax. But taking time to smell the roses wasn't Dante's style. He wanted action, any kind he could get his hands – or weapons – on. He would've been out on a job if his partners hadn't taken up all the available appointments. So he had nothing to but just sit in his office and look through one of the dirty magazines he'd looked through a thousand times before. He could try calling the ladies, but what were the chances of them answering him while on the job? Or he could clean his place, for once... Pfft. Yeah, right. What were the chances of THAT? And it wasn't like he was even able to get in contact with Nero; he'd been nearly MIA ever since moving in with Kyrie. Ah, what a woman can do to you once you're in love.

So Dante had no other choice. He would need to suck it up and party on his own. Whether he liked it or not, it beat staying another second in that office and doing nothing. Dante quickly ran over to a mirror and fixed himself up however he could before stepping out. The sun had just set, so Elenay City's nightlife was starting up rapidly. There were plenty of places open, plenty of options to cure his boredom. He just needed to find the right one.

After walking around for a short while, he saw a group of gorgeous twenty-something women running to get on line for a bar. The Crimson Flame. The line was pretty long, which meant the place must've been good. There was his spot. He followed the girls onto the line and waited for his chance to enter. Once inside the bar, he realized why the line was so long and took a while to move. The place was jam-packed. The inside looked more like a club than a bar. Tons of people were here – singles, couples, and some fairly large groups. At least he wouldn't feel like the only loser without a date or friends. He headed straight for the bar in the back and sat down on one of the stools, leaning his arms on top of the raised counter. His icy eyes caught sight of the bartender: a shapely ivory-skinned woman dress in dark, fitted clothing. Ebony locks contrasted with his own, cascading down and flipping outward on the ends, hiding most of the left side of her face. The one eye he could see stood out in the dim light; a light, shocking green, almost like they were glowing in the dark. She really was a stunning one.

"I've never seen your face around here," she said to him, smirking a little. Her voice had a silky smoothness to it. "What can I get for you?"

"Well that depends," he replied, leaning a little closer to her. "What's the best thing someone with a pretty little face like yours can offer?"

The bartender pulled back and turned toward the shelves behind her. Dante watched her pull out a dizzy cocktail glass and a few bottles. She combined the liquids in the bottle, added a few ice cubes and topped it off with an apple slice. "There you go."

"And there you go." Dante slipped her the payment for the drink and grabbed the glass. He could taste the burning vodka and the sweet red wine as it traveled down his throat. He let out a low whistle after eating the apple slice. "That's a damn good concoction you've got going there. Does it have a name?"

She started to return the bottles back to their respective shelves. "That is a Crimson Flame exclusive, a mild Scorpion's Kiss. If you think you're tough enough to handle it, you can try the daredevil version. It has more of a kick to it."

Dante's grin widened. "Babe, I can handle anything. Gimme your best shot." The bartender took his glass and refilled it. This time, however, she added less ice and topped it off with a pepper, a Black Scorpion Tongue.

"Still think you can handle it, big boy? This pepper is one of the hottest on the planet."

"Pssh, nothing's too hot for me. Not even you, babe." The devil hunter downed the entire glass before taking the pepper and eating it whole. It was hotter than he thought it would be. Small tears began to well up in the corners of his eyes. It'd been a long time since anything stung him physically, and he'd almost forgotten what it felt like. Dante grabbed an ice cube from his glass and sucked on it to help ease the burning, which subsided after a few minutes. "See? What'd I tell ya?" He'd sure as hell feel that in the morning.

"Right, and you didn't suck on the ice to soothe the pain..." The bartender reached under the counter and pulled out a pepper of her own, along with a lighter. She lit the pepper on fire, and without blowing it off, slowly lowered the entire thing into her mouth. This caught the eye of several other customers. They watched beside Dante as she consumed the whole pepper and stuck her tongue out to show it was gone. "So does anyone want another round?" The group cheered and she started making another round of her famous drink. Dante had left the bar, but the woman always kept the demon hunter in sight. She didn't know what it was, but that particular customer of hers made her feel a bit unsettled – and she didn't know whether it was a good or bad thing. But she couldn't tell how. Perhaps it was his looks: those gorgeous glacial eyes of his, paired off with a near pale complexion and albino hair, completely opposing her dark locks and bright alluring stare. Or maybe it was his scent, strangely a mix of cortisol and inhuman blood, that of something which had been hunted.

The night turned into early morning as the partying began to wind down. There were only a few people left in the bar, including Dante and the bartender. Dante was tired; it'd been a long time since he'd partied like he had that night. His boredom had been completely lifted. Hell, he even scored some numbers from a couple of good looking girls. His tongue still stung from the pepper of the Scorpion's Kiss, but the demon slayer still enjoyed himself. Dante was just about ready to call it a night when a very faint scent hit him. There was a demon nearby, but where? His eyes darted around the room. No visible ones, so it had to be in disguise. Dante closed his eyes and smelled the air in an attempt to track the demon down. He got up and followed the scent's trail toward the bar counter, where the bartender was busy stocking all the glasses and bottles of alcohol. He was a few steps away when he was suddenly intercepted by another woman. She had an even better body than the bartender, barely covered by a tube top and some shorts. "You're not gonna leave without me, are you?" The woman spun around and walked toward the entrance, her blond hair brushing against his lips as she passed him, making him completely forget what he'd just been doing. Looks like he was able to score after all.

Dante followed the blond woman out of the bar and into the dark streets. It was almost empty outside. The demon hunter was now being dragged by his latest find, who seemed to be stumbling with each step she took. "You sure you don't want me to carry you, babe?" Dante asked her a second time. He didn't mind having some fun with a drunk woman, but he had to get her to his place first, and in one piece. And it was pretty difficult to do that when the woman he was planning to bed couldn't take five steps in a straight line.

"Don't be silly," she replied, slurring a bit. "I'm absotively posolutely a-okay." The woman giggled and grabbed his arm, pushing him against the wall. "Maybe I should show you how okay I am, hmm?" Before Dante could blink, the blond had his face in her hands and began sucking his lips dry. He tried to assume control to no avail and continued having the woman's hands feel him up. Just when he began to enjoy himself, the woman bit down hard on his lip and tugged on his skin, ripping a hole in it.

Dante immediately pushed her back and brought a hand to the small gash. He looked at the few drops of blood on his hand. "Take it easy, babe," he told her. More blood bubbled at the surface of the new wound and trickled into his mouth. "Damn. You bit down pretty deep..." It stung a bit, almost as much as the pepper. Dante looked back up at the blond. All of a sudden, she wasn't looking so hot. It looked like she'd sucked a lot more blood out from his lip than the wound showed; it almost seemed like it was foaming, like saliva. She also had a sadistic looking grin on her face, and her eyes were quickly changing color. Her face suddenly split down the middle, from her nose to her chin, and an ear-shattering shriek escaped from the hole in her head. Jagged, pointed teeth pierced through the newly torn skin, a mix of blood and heavy saliva dripping down in long strings. His former bounty for the night was now his intended target. "If that's how you wanna play, why don't you at least show me what you really look like?" The demon's tongue launched from its mouth and wrapped around Dante's torso, lifting him five stories up. Dante reached behind him and pulled out Ivory, and pointed it at 'her'. "Sorry, sweetheart, but that's not how you make it to third base." He pulled the trigger and shot several bullets into his date's face. The demon released its grip on him and stumbled back a few feet. Dante took in a deep breath. The scent he'd smelled before was at full blast now. "So you're the cause of that putrid scent."

The demon, still partially trapped in the human skin, ripped the rest of its body from the shell. It grew to three times its original size, now sporting slime covered pincers and legs. It looked more like a giant cockroach gone wrong. The once serenading voice of the blond was now a screech echoing through the streets. Dante looked down at his coat, seeing the saliva from the demon dripping off the coat tail. "Great," he complained, trying to wipe off the slick slime, "This is gonna take forever to wash out." His former catch of the day screeched a few more times before Dante decided he'd heard enough of it, and shot at it one last time. The giant bug-like creature swayed a little and fell backwards, dead. "Well, that's one thing taken care of." His glance moved to his leather coat again, forming a disgusted look when he saw the slime covering it. That certainly made his night a little less boring, but the excessive amounts of saliva on him and the thought of nearly being date-raped by a slimy cockroach in a blond shell threw off his good mood. He could go for another drink...if the bar was still open.

The sound of the back door of the bar opening pulled his attention away from all the sickening thoughts. He spotted the bartender stumbling out of the building, liquor bottle in hand. A Bacardi, at nearly three in the morning? She was busy giggling and singing to herself, interrupted by the occasional hiccup. Dante was a second away from approaching her when he realized he not only had demon saliva on his person, but greenish soupy blood had splattered all over his skin and shirt. It would be better for both of them if he kept his mouth shut and walked in the other direction- "Heyyyy! Albino man!" Well so much for her not noticing. The woman shot him a smile as she staggered over to him, tripping over her feet every few steps. What was it about that particular night that made wasted broads become attracted to him? If this one turned out to be another demon, he'd lose it. Dante readied himself, reaching behind him and grabbing Ebony's handle. The moment she made a move, he'd shoot. "Where's yurr GURRLFRENNN?" she almost yelled in his direction, giggle-snorting. She tripped over her boot for the eleventh time before she stopped in front of him and took another swig from her bottle. "I had a important kweschun fer hur...uhh...what was it agan?" This was the same bartender he'd flirted with a few hours ago? She reeked of alcohol, more than he'd smelled off of any other woman. He'd have to try and understand this later, when she wasn't three inches away from him. "Hmm...You look diffferant sumhoww..." The black haired woman slowly circled him, tripping three more times and accidentally spilling some of her liquor on his shirt. Another stain he'd have to take care of.

Then she stopped right in front of him. Her eyes trailed up and down his body. "Waitaminit..." she mumbled, and laid a finger on his shoulder...right on where a blood stain had landed. "What's this on yur sholldur?" she asked, slurring even more. The bartender wiped off the green blood with her finger and sniffed it, and then sucked it all off. Dante's eyes turned into saucers at the sight of this, growing wider when she smiled and giggled. "Mmm...yummy. But why are you covered in guacamole?" Then she looked past him and gasped, pointing up to a distant building. "Whoa, what's THAT?" Dante immediately turned to see what she was pointing at, but it turned out to be nothing. When his attention shifted back to the bartender, she was gone. Dante had to do a double take. First she wobbles over to him while he's covered in demon bug remains, then she tastes some of its guts and suddenly vanishes?

Those few drinks Dante had were obviously getting to him. He needed to get home and hit the hay before any other drunk women decided to hunt him down.


	2. Chapter 2

As if he didn't already have problems with smoking hot women. The second he was back at his place, Dante ran for the shower. He couldn't stand the smell of the demonic innards that coated him after the thing exploded. To add to his disgust, the green snot-like stuff wasn't scrubbing off easily, neither from his skin or his coat. He cursed at himself, wishing he'd killed the bomb-in-a-bombshell-body before it had the chance to lay its grubby bug parts on him. While he scrubbed to the point of his skin glowing red, Dante remembered how fun the night was before he smelled 'her'. It actually hadn't been that bad of a time; sure, he went there by himself, but he'd gotten some phone numbers. They were...in his coat pocket. Dante grunted, whispering, "Stupid," to himself. "I really hope they're still legible." Aside from that, the only other highlight of the night was the bartender and her signature drink. What had she called it again? The Black Widow's Tongue? The Scorpion's Kiss, he finally remembered. Drinking that was the best part of the night – no, he thought, it had to be when the bartender ate the whole pepper on fire. That sent his senses reeling. He couldn't remember seeing anything that hot since the time he'd gotten Trish and Lady drunk enough to-

Other thoughts calmed his blood flow. The bartender was hot – in multiple ways – but he doubted those would be enough to rid him of seeing her lick demon remains off his shoulder like it was gummy candy. He doubted that even her drink could clear his mind of that, but he was still willing to try. Just not with her around. His mind finally cleared – at least for the night – when the slime began to clear from his skin. It dripped off in large lumps, looking like a severe case of phlegm. That wouldn't sit well in his stomach, especially when he remembered his coat was still covered in it. There went his future appetite. He was so glad to finally get the crap off his prized leather.

His problems only increased the next day. First the seemingly hot blond turned out to be a creepy crawler covered in a skin that screamed aphrodisiac; then the gorgeous bartender, who was way past inebriated, tasted a fingertip's worth of the demon's innards. And now, he was face-to-face with his co-workers, also women with amazing looks and bodies, whose complaints were rendering his eardrums useless. Dante was only half listening, as always, hearing every other word or sentence that left either Lady's or Trish's lips. Apparently the complaint this time was about him screwing up their latest deal to take out a small group of demons terrorizing someone's dogs. He just sat at his desk, feet propped on top, while flipping through the same dirty magazine he'd read cover to cover a thousand times before. It was much more interesting than whatever blabber Lady's lips were flapping about, even if he'd already seen the women in this issue. His distraction was short lived, though, when a gloved hand snatched the porno from his grasp, forcing his focus to the human woman. "Maybe NOW you'll pay attention to me when I'm talking."

"Yeah, yeah," he started, "I heard you bitch about it the first three times." He reached to his left, for the last slice of cold pizza from the week before, but she slapped the lid shut.

"I'm not done, yet, so apparently you didn't." Dante huffed and retracted his hand. "I told you to put that call in sooner. But I know you didn't, because the old man called my cell to tell me I'd have to make this deal 'more worth his while'. You know what that means, Dante? It means the price had to be lowered. And that means my profits were lowered, too." She set a black briefcase on the desk top, shoving his feet off. "Four thousand. The original deal was fifty-five hundred."

"That's a twenty-seven percent profit loss," Trish added in. "I could've bought myself a nice pair of shoes with that extra money."

Dante rubbed his head and sighed. How was he still sane with hearing these business partners complain? He needed to get them out of his hair. "Look, I already told you what happened. I put the call in RIGHT after you told me to. But the old geezer said someone offered him a sweeter deal right before I called him. How was I supposed to know that would happen?" He stood up, stretching his arms to the ceiling, and pushed his chair in. "I did what I was told, so I'm not taking the heat just because your panties are twisted in knots. I owe you nothing."

Trish pouted her lips and crossed her arms, sitting on the desk. "Well I still insist that you make this up to us." She stared down at her nails, tilting her head. "Maybe you could pay for my next manicure."

"I'm not paying for you to get your nails painted," he complained. "Not for a manicure, not for any sort of waxing, and definitely not for purses and shoes you'll never use." He huffed and got up from his chair, stretching out. Hearing female rant was giving him a sore neck.

"Then why don't you pay for our partying for a night? Cover the tab for our drinks." Dante groaned, earning a scowl from Lady. "Come on. Trish and I haven't had a chance to relax. We've been busy on all these jobs for the last few weeks." He wasn't budging. She tapped her fingers on top of the desk. "We're not giving in on this, Dante. That's our only offer."

"Alright, fine," he caved, "just shut up about it already. But they can't be too expensive." Trish and Lady gave each other approving nods. "Okay, where do you want to go?" The corners of Trish's lips turned upward.

She got up from the desk. "The Crimson Flame."

"You're shit out of luck if you think I'm going back there."

"Why not?" Lady asked him. "And what do you mean, going _back_? You went there without us?"

He nodded. "Last night. It ended in an...unpleasant way." The women stared at him, waiting for him to continue. "Well...how do I put this? The bartender's a drunk. One of the patrons turned out to be a demon. I killed it. And then the bartender licked some of the demon remains off of me. Everything just turned me off."

"So you don't want to go back because of that? Pssh, you're such a baby." Lady started walking toward the door, Trish following close behind her. "The Crimson Flame. That's the bar, and it's not changing." Dante pinched between his brows. These women... Why did he allow himself to be bossed around by a human and a demon in the cloak of his mother? What was he so scared of that he would just follow their orders without hesitation? And then he remembered.

_'Oh, right. They have tits. And tits rule the planet.'_

Once at their destination, they were met with the line Dante had encountered the previous day. The line moved quickly, like before, and they got in without a problem. Trish's face glowed in the strobe lights. "I don't see why you didn't want to come here," she yelled above the music. "This place is so alive!" She danced her way through the nearest crowd. "Hurry up! I'm not waiting for you!"

Lady, more calm than her companion, trailed behind her, bobbing and weaving out of the way of dancing patrons. "This place looks a lot smaller than I thought it would be," she shouted to Dante. "You sure this is just a bar?" He shrugged his shoulders and followed her. Many of the same faces were around from the night before. The ones who recognized him gave him a wave, which he returned, and a few new women shot him winks and blew kisses in his direction. He raised his hand to his ear in a 'Call Me' fashion and winked back. His focus returned to the path Lady was taking ahead of him. A large group of people had gathered near the back, where the bar counter was...

"No." He grabbed Lady's arm and pulled her back. She turned to him and tugged her arm out from his grasp.

She raised her sunglasses over her eyes. "What?"

"I'm not going over there."

"Why not?" She glared at him, but he wouldn't budge. "God, you're so dramatic. Trish is already over there. Now you're going there, too. Or have you forgotten that you're paying for our drinks?" Dante raised a finger to speak, but no words left his mouth. His hands were tied. All thanks to the bitchy pair of walking tits. His mouth closed and his hand lowered. "Good. Now come along." Reluctantly he walked the rest of the way to the crowd, zigzagging through the people to get to the counter. The mass of partygoers was tightly packed and loud, much louder than those dancing near the DJ. They managed to get to the front of the pack, where Trish was wildly throwing her hands in the air. The two saw what all the excitement was about. Two people were engaged in a shot drinking contest. A banner hung over the line of alcohol on the wall. **Monthly Drinking Contest,** it read, **Out-Drink Our Champion And Win Free Food And Drinks All Night! Have Your Name On The Wall Of Fame!** A young guy, appearing college age, was up against a woman with black hair, her left eye covered by bangs...

Not her. Anyone but the bartender. He couldn't look at her. The visions from her licking the slime off his coat prevented him from seeing anything other than a drunken woman stumbling into his filthy coat. It disgusted him. It was a shame, though, because she was hot. The noise from the crowd distracted him from the horrific thoughts. Everyone was cheering for the bartender, who'd beaten her challenger. He got up from the stool, head hanging low. "Dammit," he whispered to himself.

The bartender leaned back on her stool and smirked. "Whoo!" she hiccupped. "Alright! Who wants to challenge the champion next?" The people around them raised their voices, all hoping to be picked for the next round. Someone standing behind Dante accidentally pushed him forward, and he stumbled into the small empty space around the only available bar stool. He caught himself on the counter and looked up at his opponent. Her arms were crossed across her chest and she tilted her head back, smirking at him. "Well well well," she started, "if it isn't my favorite albino customer. I see you've come back for more than just a hot pepper." She raised her hand to the display of alcohol on the wall behind her. "As the challenger, you get to pick the poison."

He sat down on the stool and peered at each bottle. Lady came up behind him and tapped his shoulder. "She's beaten nine people so far," she yelled over the music. "She looks about ready to pass out. Win this, and Trish and I will be satisfied." She read the contents on each bottle. "That one." She pointed to a bottle with green liquid inside. "That should be enough to take her out."

He realized there was no way out of this. Sighing, he pointed to the same bottle as Lady. "Pull out the absinthe," he told the bartender. The throng of partiers 'oohed' in sync as Lady backed away from Dante.

"Going hardcore, I see," the bartender replied. She reached behind her and brought the bottle between them. Someone brought over two tall glasses to their section of the counter. "Alright, here are the rules." She began filling each of the glasses to the top. "First one to finish their entire glass and grab the bottle wins. But since I know you like challenges..." She reached down and pulled out ten peppers, the same ones used in her famous drink, and divided them equally between them. "We'll also add these. Finish your drink first, eat all the peppers and grab the bottle before I do, and you win. No specific order, just finish everything. You got it?" He nodded. "Good."

One of the patrons hopped on top of the counter and laid a hand between them. "Are you both ready?" He banged his hand on the counter. "Three...two...one...DRINK!"

Without hesitation, they each grabbed a pepper and shoved it into their mouths. She ate hers whole and went straight for her glass, with Dante following close behind. He managed to catch up to her on the second pepper, but she quickly regained the lead as she downed the absinthe. The third peppers were gone. The bartender was fast, he had to admit, but how could she be this fast after already taking down nine other competitors? He couldn't lose to her, not with what was at stake. He took his last two peppers in hand at once and bit into them. They burned even worse together, and the absinthe was only intensifying it. His peppers were gone. She still had one left. He only had to finish his glass, which only contained a fourth of his remaining liquid, grab the bottle, and his so called debt to his co-workers would be paid off.

"Fuck off!" the crowd heard someone yell. Everyone turned to the entrance, where three men were trying to force their way deeper into the bar. "I'm not here for you. I'm here for that bitch!"

A middle aged man held his arms out, attempting to keep them out. "I don't care who you're here for. You can't just waltz in here and-" The man in front of the pack sent his fist flying into his face, knocking him into a speaker. He held a hand up to hold his bloody nose. Before he could stand up, he was lifted up by his collar.

"Clear out the bar and find her," the burly man ordered. His three lackeys nodded and scattered around the bar. One of them made a beeline for the crowd gathered around the counter near the back. A few of the patrons saw him coming and ran toward the center, and tapped the bartender's shoulder.

"They're back!" he whispered in her ear. She groaned and set her glass down.

Dante watched as she stood up. "Sorry, honey," she apologized. "I've got a loose end I need to tie up." She hopped over the counter and stumbled backwards, hitting Dante's back. "Whoops!" she hiccupped, and regained her footing. "Whoo! Damn, that's some strong stuff!"

The man sent toward the counter, a stocky guy, grabbed people and shoved them out of his way. He made it to the clearing near Dante and stopped. "Hey, boss!" he yelled in the direction of the entrance. "I found her! She's over here!"

He gave a malicious grin. "Good..." He reached to his crotch and took out a small pistol, and fired a shot to the ceiling. Everyone ducked. "Clear the fuck outta here!" he yelled. "Or else you're all dead!" People dispersed immediately, heading for the exit nearest to them. The bartender stayed in place, leaning against the counter and drinking a beer she'd found abandoned nearby.

"Hey, Blondie," she called to Trish, "you mind picking up my friend over there? The one with the bloody nose? He's a little disoriented." She and Trish exchanged glances, the bartender widening her eye and pointing her chin in the direction of the injured man. "Do this and drinks are on me next time. For you and your little friends."

"Now that's a deal I like," she replied, and hurried over to him. She helped him into a chair and brought a handful of napkins to his nose.

Dante stood up. One, two, three four of them, all looking ready to kill someone. The one determined to be the ring leader made his way toward him. Instinctively, his hand moved behind him to grab one of his guns, only to find air occupying the space in their holsters. He cursed at himself and cracked his knuckles. It'd been a while since he had to rely solely on brute force to settle something.

"Don't think you're getting involved in this," he heard the bartender say to him. He glanced in her direction, only seeing hair, but her voice was stern.

"And why the hell not?" he argued. "You're way too inebriated to fight off one, let alone all four of them."

She pushed herself off the counter and tripped over her foot. She managed to hold herself up with an arm. "I'm fi – **hic** – ine," she argued back. "So get off my back." She spun her head around, cracking her neck, and stood up again. Once more she stumbled, right into Dante's arms. The absinthe, he assumed, was beginning to hit her, and hard. There was no way she'd be able to even throw a punch without falling over. But she had tits, and therefore, would be stubborn. He needed to associate with more men.


	3. Chapter 3

Trish grabbed another napkin and pressed it to the man's bloody nose, helping him tip his head back. His blood was getting under her nails, and she was getting annoyed. Was this really worth free drinks the next time they went to the Crimson Flame? She shrugged her shoulders. With the reputation of their signature drink and top-of-the-line parties, she felt it was a fair trade. She could always get Dante to fix her manicure.

Her sight shifted to the scene taking place. Lady had ducked into the nearby bathroom. Probably to load a gun, she assumed. Dante, on the other hand, was still out in the open, clutching the bartender's arm as she swayed in place, both unarmed. The ring leader of the men who'd broken in was staring the two of them down, gun still in hand. He casually swung his arms and took residence in the nearest stool, resting his hand on the counter. "Well, well, look what we have here." His hand sprang up to support his head. "How did I know I'd find you here?"

Dante looked at the bartender, who sensed his questioning gaze. "My ex. His friends call him Scott, but I feel a more proper name would be Minnie Dickerson." She pulled her arm out of his grasp and stepped over to the man. "So what brings you here today? Come to crash my party?" She finished the rest of the beer and threw the bottle aside. One of Scott's underlings was hit with it and crashed into the wall behind him, glass shattering in his face. She burped, and an "ahh" echoed from her throat.

"Azera, baby, please. I just thought I'd pay you a little visit. What's wrong with coming to say hi?" Scott pushed his stool closer to her and smiled, tapping his fingers on the counter. She and Dante could smell the intense alcohol flowing off his breath. "Oh, yeah. There was one other thing." In one swift motion, Scott's fist cracked across her face, throwing her off balance and sending her to the floor. Dante immediately shot up from his seat. "That's what you deserve for leaving me." He pushed the stool out from under him and stood up. "Did you really think your little stunt was going to work?" When she didn't reply and tried to pick herself up from the floor, he plowed his foot into her ribs. Dante stormed over to her, only to see Scott point his gun at him. "Hang on there, buddy," the drunk human continued as he casually waved the pistol around. "This doesn't involve you. Either fuck off or you get it between the eyes."

Dante sneered. He knew he could easily take this highly intoxicated man on, armed or not. Neither the gun nor the thought of taking a bullet were an issue. His eyes darted toward the windows, and he saw the bar's previous patrons looking inside. Having them watch him be dealt a fatal blow, only to stand up like nothing happened with a bullet through his head moments later, didn't feel like the best thing to do, not at the moment. And what if the drunk bastard started targeting them? He glanced behind him to Trish, who was flanked by one of Scott's lackeys, a second gun to her back. It was already too risky. As much as he hated to do it, Dante raised his arms in surrender and backed down. He really regretted going into the bar.

Scott smirked. "There, isn't that better?" Keeping the gun pointed toward Dante, his attention went back to the woman on the floor. "Now before I was rudely interrupted, I think we were in the middle of a conversation. Let's get back to that." He kicked her in the stomach. "That one? That's for dumping me. This?" He kicked her a second time, sending her rolling a few feet away, and he followed after her. Dante moved with them, making sure to keep a small enough distance where he could act, but still keeping it wide enough where the human wouldn't do anything too extreme. He kept his gaze shifting from Azera to the gun. "That one's for spreading lies about me." Scott rested his foot on top of Azera's head, twisting it as he applied pressure. "I believe I still owe you one more, for fucking up the rest of my life. And I know just how to deliver it." He raised his foot high, ready to break through her skull and send brain matter spraying all over the venue.

As his foot flew down, he suddenly found himself unable to apply any further pressure. His leg shook from the forces pushing in both directions. Scott turned his knee so he could see what was preventing him from completing his revenge, and saw a hand curled around his boot. "How-" Before he could utter another word, the hand pushed harder, forcing him backwards. Scott watched as the woman stood up, quivering when up on her feet again. She shook the hair out of her face, revealing the swollen muscle in her face and fresh bruising under her eye. Dante saw the stunned expression in Scott's face and took the chance to deal with the human. He grabbed the gun-wielding hand and twisted it behind his back, forcing the weapon from his grip, and kicked it away. He wrestled the human to the ground and pushed on his back with his knee.

"Nice seeing you alert," he commented, holding Scott's arms in place. Dante was a bit amazed to see Azera standing and conscious. He knew not many people would stand so easily after being abused so brutally.

Her sight settled on Dante and her ex. "What did I fu – **hic** – cking say?" she shrilled. "I said he's mine!" Taking a step forward, she stumbled before regaining her footing. "Let 'im up."

He raised an eyebrow. "S'cuse me?"

"I said get off!" With a swift push, she moved Dante off of the drunk man, who promptly stood up and grabbed her hair and forced eye contact. Dante was ready to lunge. She waved a finger at him and shooed him away.

Scott wiped some splinters from his face. "So now you've got some asshole protecting you?" He shook his head, an angered laugh escaping his lips. It stopped when he heard Azera whisper. "What'd you say?"

"You're boring the shit out of me," Azera replied. Less than a second later, Scott was leaned over, holding onto his gut and coughing. Azera lowered her knee and crossed her arms. "In case you've forgotten, there's a reason behind what I did. I'm not some cheap little whore you can dispose of whenever you're bored." She didn't have to look around to know his backup was drawing closer to her. Scott forced himself to stand, scowling, feeling his pockets for another gun or knife. "You, on the other hand, are just that." He rose to a crouching state, wiping any saliva or blood from his chin as he pulled a switchblade from his back pocket. Azera's back was to him as she continued. "I don't know what I ever saw in you. Maybe I felt sorry for your ass and thought I'd be doing you a favor." Dante noticed the slight movement of Scott's arms from his peripheral vision and saw him hiding the blade behind his back. As Azera marched around and carried on with her speech, the human stood and charged in her direction. Dante quickly chased after him in an attempt to stop him from gutting the bartender where she stood, and she was still lost in her own words. "...Thus, that proves how pathetic you are. And so does THIS!" In one swift motion, Azera spun around and thrust her leg out toward her ex. The rubber bottom of her boot crashed into his forehead and the bridge of his nose, pushing him into the opposite direction. Dante immediately dodged the flying body, which smashed into the adjacent wall, creating a huge hole in it. The half demon's eyes were wide. Azera's foot was back on the floor when she faced him. "Why so surprised?" she asked, placing her hands on her hips. "I dated him for two months. His quirks were easy to pick up. Way too easy, in fact."

Watching the events unfold in shock, two of Scott's henchmen instantly ran for the woman. Again, Azera wasn't paying attention. "Shit," Dante whispered, as he ran for the nearest guy. Within seconds they were back-to-back, landing a serious blow on the enemy closest to them. "You know, you really should watch your surroundings before you get hurt."

"Oh, can it. I told you I got this." She bumped her behind into his, forcing him off of her at the same second Scott's short, chubby friend was headed her way. Azera ducked just as he ran over her and hooked her foot around his, tripping him. He tumbled into the second, ginger-headed lackey and they hit an abandoned table, landing face-first into the forgotten cheese covered nachos. The short one quickly got to his feet and lunged at her again, only to be intercepted by Dante.

"Either you're so drunk you're paranoid," he started, pushing against his foe in a battle of strength, "or you're just faking it." He easily overpowered the human and twisted his arms, forcing him down and punching him. His body twisted and he stumbled into the corner of the bar, hitting his head and instantly falling unconscious. Dante wiped his hands off on his pants and watched Azera half walk, half stagger over to the bar, finding yet another deserted drink. She brought the glass to her lips and drew in the scent of the alcohol. Just as she was going to drink it, she noticed the redhead waking up and preparing to charge to her. Her eye fell on Dante, who also took notice, and their eyes met. She nodded to him, giving him permission to deal with the brute. "As if I were asking," Dante said to himself, cracking his knuckles. In seconds he tackled the human like a football player and slammed him to the floor like a wrestler. The floor splintered like cheap wood and the lackey ceased all movement.

Azera downed the entire glass in one breath. "What does it matter that you didn't ask? They're my problem, not yours." She set the glass down and turned her attention to the other side of the space. Trish and her boss were still being closely monitored by the last henchman, who was pointing a small pistol at them from a few feet away. Their gazes met, her eye squinting, and his following. No words were spoken, but both knew what was about to happen. Azera made a run for it and his finger scrambled for the trigger. He found what he was looking for, but not before her hand grabbed his wrist and twisted it so fast that he let go of the weapon. His other hand made its way to strike her face but was met with air. He looked down to see a foot headed for his chin. It uppercutted him with great force, causing him to wobble backwards and land in a chair. Azera stood and kicked the gun up to her hand, twirling it around her finger. "I never understood why men held guns like that," she commented, and turned toward Trish. "Here." She handed the gun to her. "I have no use for crap like this. Maybe you can get something out of it." Trish accepted the gift with a smirk. Azera pulled a nearby chair up and sat next to them, her focus on the man between them. "Gus, how're you doing?" she asked.

He flashed her a thumbs-up. "Surviving," he replied in a nasal-y voice. "Although it's gonna be a bitch to set this thing back in place."

"Hang on, I've got it." Without waiting for his consent, Azera moved his hand from his face and snapped his nasal cavity back into position. He let out a short yelp and dug his nails into the upholstered seat beneath him. "How's that?"

As she conversed with him, Scott was starting to regain consciousness. His eyes flickered open and he took in everything that was going on. Dante was settling onto a bar stool, waiting for someone to pass him a beer. Trish was cleaning any blood off her hands and out from under her fingernails, muttering something about needing a new manicure. Gus was wiping his face and holding the bridge of his nose, complaining about the destroyed tables and floor. Azera was... Azera. His sight became red. She'd dumped him. She'd embarrassed him. She'd ruined his reputation with women. She'd kicked him into the wall and knocked him out. And now she was going to truly pay, now with her life. He scanned the floor and found his gun surprisingly close by. He easily reached for it and slowly rose from his crack in the wall. And then he picked up great speed for a large man, almost moving faster than a quarterback as he targeted his former lover. His steps were loud enough to gain everyone's attention, Azera's last. Dante jumped from his seat and ran forward. "Stop." He heard Azera yell to him and looked her way. "I already said, he's mine. She immediately ran in his direction. They were on the path to a collision, until she vanished. Dante's eyes could follow her with no problem: she'd slid under Scott's legs, forcing the man to slow down and turn around. Azera stood up and faced him, her expression calm. This time they walked to one another, until barely a foot of space stood between them. Dante didn't like this; at that range, the lunatic could do anything to her. He got closer to them. "Back up before I make you." Her tone was harsh, and he reluctantly replied, but only moved back one step. Her full focus was on Scott now, and his was on her.

He raised his gun to eye level and moved closer, pressing the barrel to her forehead. "You've got a lot of guts doing what you did," he said to her, his face contorted into some form of rage. "But you're going to pay, in the one way you can pay for everything." He watched her, waiting for a fearful reply, waiting for her to beg for her life. But the only response he got was a yawn, her eyes bored.

"Are you finished yet?" she asked. "Good, because I hate speeches...of course, unless I'm giving them." Azera laid her hand on top of his and forced the gun deeper into her skin. "You think you're such a man, Scott? Then do it. I'm not stopping you. Do it if you have the balls...and while you still do have them." He blinked, confused. She looked down and his eyes followed, discovering a stiletto on the side of her already sharp heel resting against his crotch. "Of course, if you're not man enough, I can always rip you a new one. I know you like it that way."

A single shot was fired. Scott fell to his knees again, this time holding his bloodied crotch in his hands, while Azera was still standing, her face hidden behind her hair. She shook it out of her face, revealing no wounds, and stepped over to Scott. She slapped the gun from his shaky hand and grabbed his shirt collar, lifting him a few inches from the ground. Dante was taken aback. The only woman he'd ever seen with such strength was Trish, mostly due to her demonic being. He watched Azera closely. "Now I've got a few words for you," she started, "so listen well." Gus and Trish observed a few curious bar patrons poking their heads through the door, and one or two even stepping into the bar. She and Dante slowly went around the perimeter to keep the patrons a safe distance from the scene, but their ears listened for Azera. "Today, you're not a man anymore, and you never will be one again. You'll have to piss from plastic tubes from now on. You'll never get the pleasure of sex again. No woman will ever love you from this point on. And if I ever see your cowardly face again – whether it's near my bar or just in the street – I'll remind you of why you're not a man. Because this-" one hand slid from his collar to his crotch, and she tightly squeezed it, enough to make him cry- "This belongs to me now. You don't have the pleasure of using it anymore." Azera let go of his injury and leaned her face close to his. Her lips brushed lightly against his cheek and she gave him a small kiss. "Au revoir," she whispered before setting him down and kicking him toward the door. "Grab your friends on the way out. Same goes for them." As the men regained consciousness and stumbled to the exit with their fallen leader, the bar's patrons gradually came back in and started to applaud her. She wiped her hands on her pants and trotted back behind the bar counter, and set out a dozen freshly cleaned glasses. "Anyone care for a drink?"

Lady emerged from the bathroom and rejoined Dante and Trish. "And just what were you doing in there the entire time?" Dante questioned her. "You could've helped us out instead of hiding."

"I wasn't hiding," she snapped at him. "The chef and DJ pulled me in there with them. They were cowering like a couple of babies and begged me to keep them safe from those guys." She pat the holster on her hip. "It's a good thing I was armed, unlike someone I know."

"Hey, hey, I managed without."

The loud music was back on and a comfortable air quickly returned to the patrons. Someone came up to the trio and laid a tray on the table near them. "Azera said it's on the house," he told them before returning to his group. They saw her through a space between partying people, serving drinks and performing bartender tricks as if nothing had ever happened. She met their gazes and held up a glass of her own concoction to them, mouthing a 'nice work'. Trish and Lady toasted her back, but Dante watched. Her skin was flawless, unmarked from the fight that had taken place less than an hour before. No bruising, no blood, nothing. Only the smiling face of a drunken woman. And the way she'd lifted up the man before... He had to have been at least two hundred pounds, and she barely did it with a single arm. It didn't sit right with the demon slayer.

He stood up. "I'll be right back," he told his co-workers. Dante set down his beer and started weaving his way through the crowd. Something told him this chick wasn't normal.


	4. Chapter 4

Azera wasn't that surprised to see Gus running around like he had no injuries. His broken nose had been bandaged up and he was immediately back to work, ignoring the pain to help serve food and drinks to all their customers. “Another round of Scorpion's Kisses!” she yelled to him over the booming music, and slid four full glasses down to the end of the counter. Not a single drop was spilled as he caught them and laid them on a tray to be served to those who ordered them. The chef set down three plates of food on the space between the bar and kitchen, and rang the tiny bell he knew Azera could easily hear. She grabbed the plates and set one down directly in front of her, passing the other two to people reaching over the counter. Her coordination astonished most first-time patrons, who wondered how she could prepare the perfect drink, serve food, and collect payment, all so quickly and without missing a beat. As she prepared the next round of orders, she felt a hand pull on her shirt. She turned around and saw Dante taking over an unoccupied stool. “Need a refill?” she asked.

“What's your game?” he asked her, raising his voice over the music. “There's no way you could've lifted that guy so easily. You're not an ordinary chick, are you?”

“Never said I was,” she replied as she put together another order of alcohol. “I am the bouncer here. But maybe I'm just a great multitasker, too. Why so curious?” Azera pulled a fresh beer bottle out from under the counter and effortlessly twisted the metal cap off, and waved it in front of him. He took the bait and she turned away for a second to refill her own glass.

He raised an eyebrow. “Straight vodka?”

“Yeah,” she replied, and downed half the glass. “I like my liquor how I like my men. Hard, warm, and rough.” She set the glass down, and as suddenly as her cheery vibe had returned following the fight, she cringed and laid a hand on her chest.

“You okay?”

She nodded with a cough. “Just heartburn.” Her hand shook as she grabbed the glass and drank the remainder of the alcohol. “It'll go away in a minute.” But the pain only increased. Her hand gripped the counter and she bared her teeth, a hiss escaping her lips. “Gus...” she called to her boss, who quickly saw her writhing in agony.

“Azera.” He was immediately at her side. “Go get some air. Ricky and I can watch over the counter.” She nodded and made a beeline for the bathroom. Dante wandered away from the counter and wove through the crowd toward the bathroom, and he could easily hear sounds of puking and violent coughing. He didn't know whether to burst in there and check on her, or wait until she came out, and the sounds were getting worse. As he thought about his options, the woman emerged from the bathroom, appearing pale under the blinking lights.

“Hey, what's wrong?” he asked her. Azera replied with a simple shake of the head, her stare blank, and wiped what looked like dark blood from her mouth. She staggered with each step she took, and had to hold onto the wall for support. Dante wasn't buying it. This chick was beyond hung over, plus with the beating she'd recently suffered... “That's it.” He scooped her arm and rested it behind his neck and pulled her up. He grabbed one of the patrons and began to speak. “Tell her boss she's going home. She's in no shape to continue working.” The woman gave him an okay and wandered to the bar counter as he made his way toward the exit, half carrying Azera across the room. Her feet dragged as she struggled to walk. They made it out of the door and a quiet air took over. The outside was much darker than the flashing lights inside the Crimson Flame, and they made it far enough from the front entrance just as the bartender felt the urge to puke take over. The demon hunter held her hair back, keeping her at an angle so none of her insides would end up on his coat; that was the last thing he wanted, and for a second night. Dante knew his co-workers would be on his ass for abandoning them during one of the liveliest nights off of their lives, but he figured they'd understand that the hostess' life was hanging in the balance after the beating she'd taken. Azera eventually passed out and he ended up having to carry her bridal style down the street, earning strange glances from those who passed by them. He knew at least one of the faces assumed he'd drugged the woman to have his way with her. Dante had no idea where he was going to drop her off. She'd said nothing about where she lived, or if she even lived in the city. Every few steps, he would hear her whimper in her unconscious state, the only movement being her body twitching when she had another pain episode rip through her body. He prayed that she wouldn't barf on him as he carried her.

Reluctantly, he settled on taking her to his place. Her whimpering stopped as he arrived to the block his place was on. Dante kicked open the door and carried the bartender to the couch. He set her down on the upholstery and wiped some sweat from his forehead. “Finally,” he said to himself. But what was he supposed to do now? He had an unconscious woman in his home, and normally that wouldn't be a problem. If it weren't for her crazed drunken state and current sickened condition, Dante would be able to look past all the insane things she'd done. Maybe he'd be able to see her the same way he did when he first walked into the Crimson Flame: the gorgeous, intoxicating dark-haired bartender with the smooth voice and enticing eyes. And maybe he'd be able to make a move on her, like he almost did before. Dante sat on the arm of the couch and stared at her, studying the woman laying beside him. The dark clothing she wore clung almost skin-tight, and she seemed to have the same affinity for leather that he did; would've been a bonus under other circumstances. His gaze was drawn to the necklace she wore: a white-gold amulet with an emerald stone, the metal swirled like a tear drop to hold the precious gem in place. Looking at her face she appeared much calmer than before, and her breathing was so silent that he had to watch her chest rise and fall to make sure she was still alive. There was no way she'd be waking up until at least the morning.

“My head...” he heard her mutter only after a few minutes. Azera's eyes peeled open and she squinted, expecting to see the bright lights of her bar. Darkness was the only thing she saw, and her eyes opened all the way. “Where am I?” She looked up and saw Dante staring back at her. “Oh...it's you. Where'd you take me?” Slowly, she sat up, holding her head in one hand and pushing her hair away with the other. “I need a drink.”

“A please would be nice.” he told her, standing up and heading to the fridge. “What do you want?”

“A beer.”

He looked at her from behind the fridge door. “You're kidding, right? You just got wasted, and now you want another beer? I don't think so. You're getting water instead.” Dante closed the fridge and made his way to the sink. He grabbed a nearby glass and filled it to the top, and brought it to her. She groaned before taking it from him and downing half of its contents.

“...Thanks,” she grumbled, still holding her head.

Dante pulled a nearby chair toward the couch and sat down, leaning his chin on his folded hands. “You still didn't answer my question from before. How did you take that idiot down back there?”

Azera finished the rest of her glass and set it on the floor. “He was drunk. It was easier than I made it look.” She slowly stood herself up and staggered. Dante was quicker than her and caught her, his hands landing on both sides of her waist. Their eyes met as skin made contact with skin, and the air grew cold. He tried to find some sort of answer in the one eye of hers he could see, the harlequin green that brightened the vast hair that was darker onyx. She, in turn, studied the expression in his, seeing the concentration in the sky blue that heightened his snowy hair's luster in the dim light. He truly was a looker, and he could say the same for her. Then, in a moment of spontaneity, Azera grabbed a fistful of his hair and forced her lips onto his. His eyes widened, shocked by her sudden action, as he felt her hot breath travel into his mouth. She paid no attention to his surprise, instead laying her free hand on the back of his neck and bringing her body closer to his. Still taken aback by her actions, Dante began to feel himself submitting to her. His hands tightened around her waist and he started to explore her exposed skin. Her tongue made its journey across their joined lips to meet his and they entwined themselves. Then as suddenly as she'd done it, Azera backed off, separating herself from Dante. He stared at her, eyes half lidded, as she slowly licked her lips, and stood up. “Consider that my thanks to you. I'm sure that was more than enough to repay you, right?” She gave him a quick smile and turned around, walking toward the door.

Dante nearly jumped out of his chair and chased after her. “Hold on a second.”

And before he knew it, Azera had stopped him from grabbing her and bringing her into another hot moment. “Patience, darling. You know where to find me if you're in need of a good time.” With her finger tracing the shape of his lips, the bartender opened the front door. “See you around, Dante.” Again he was surprised, wondering how she knew his name, but before he could ask her, the black haired woman vanished in the night.

“Well, that was unexpected,” he commented while closing the door, and cursed at himself when he felt an uncomfortable sensation below his belt. “Dammit...” He needed to cool off. Dante decided a shower was in order to clear his head. He headed to the second floor and entered his bedroom, grabbing fresh clothes before walking into the bathroom. He locked the door, feeling relieved Lady and Trish hadn't been around to witness him become putty in a random hot woman's hands. Just the thought of her lips against his brought the uncomfortable sensations back. He cursed at himself again and immediately turned on the cold water.

The water helped him regain control over his body, and Dante was quickly able to think clearly again. He sighed in relief and turned the water off, grabbing the nearest towel. He dried his hair and skin, and started to get dressed. As he pulled his pants up, something caught the demon hunter off guard. A strong scent hit him, and as much as he tried to fight it off, the smell wouldn't quit. It was a strange mixture, one he didn't expect, that of lavender and ginseng that filled the air. The aroma was all over the bathroom, and it flooded all through his home and office. It was almost hypnotizing. If he were a normal human, he wouldn't have questioned its origins, and would've either sat around and gotten high off the smell, or ran off to investigate where it was coming from. Part of him wanted to find out what was causing it. He settled with his gut feeling and grabbed his guns, tucking them in the back of his pants as he followed the smell out the front door.

Pink smoke was everywhere. The scent grew twice as strong, and it hit Dante harder than before. It was truly intoxicating, bringing him to suspect if it was a demon's doing. He followed the aroma down the street, feeling his mind begin to cloud the further he went. And he didn't know if it was the smoke or his imagination, but Dante swore he heard someone whispering his name. At first he thought it was his imagination, but the voice grew louder. “Dante...” it called through the streets. Now he knew he wasn't hallucinating. “Dante...” it called to him again, growing more enticing with each repetition. Erotic moans accompanied the voice in saying his name. It got louder as more smoke accumulated. “Dante...” Turning down an alleyway, Dante found the source of everything. A figure stood before him, tall with curves in all the right places, and he knew it was a demon. Her skin, a matte gray, was barely covered in black scales, the only large patches concealing her breasts and groin. Spike trailed all across her body, leading to two oversized claw-like structures hanging off her right arm. He easily spotted a long, spiny tail swaying to either side of her, and her white hair floated around her, coated in the same shade of blood red on the tips as her irises. She truly was a strange looking demon, one he'd never encountered before, but her appearance and the smell helped him determine she was a succubus... his least favorite type of demon to deal with. Dante tucked a hand behind him and reached for one of his guns. The demon's hair moved through the air to reach him, beckoning him to come closer. He took one step forward, and when she didn't lunge at him, he took another.

“That's right,” she said to him, her voice coated in several different tones, “there's nothing to fear.” More of the familiar pink smoke emerged from her mouth as she spoke. Dante took a deep breath, smelling more of the lavender-ginseng mixture, and suddenly felt a little calmer. His grip on Ivory loosened as his stance relaxed. “There. Isn't that better?”

“Who are you?” Dante asked, seeming to be in a sudden daze. The scent was making him feel different from moments before. His muscles no longer felt tense, and his head felt clearer. Thinking was easier, and he could easily see the beautiful woman standing in front of him, ignoring all the abnormal appendages.

“I'm Calvaro,” the demon replied, her hair caressing his cheek. “But I can be whoever you want me to be. I am your greatest fantasy.” Before he could register it, she was directly in front of him, leaving only a few inches of space between their bodies. Her hand replaced the hair feeling his skin and she moved closer to him, parting her lips. “Relax,” she whispered to him, sending more of her breath into his nostrils. “And submit...” Her hair started to wrap around his legs, and the pointed tip of her tail snuck behind him, readying itself to plunge into his neck. “It'll be over soon...”

Dante drew his guns and started firing. Calvaro's grip on his leg tightened as she backed up, leaping out of the way of his bullets. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news,” he commented, “but your little aphrodisiac doesn't work on me.” He was suddenly pulled into the air by her hair, hanging upside down as the demonic strands coiled themselves around the lower half of his body. Dante didn't struggle against her, instead pointing Ebony between her eyes and firing again. She raised her clawed arm and blocked the bullet from hitting her. She suddenly let him go and raised her bare left arm. A swarm of scorpions dug their way out from under the ground and marched toward Dante. He didn't hesitate to shoot each one of them, but for every one he killed, six more would appear.

The succubus hissed at him, and without another word, vanished in a cloud of pink smoke. The scorpion demons diminished in numbers, and soon they were all gone. Dante fanned the smoke away from his face and stood still for a while, watching the holes in the ground rebuild themselves. "Strange chick," he mumbled, tucking his guns back into place. Something strange was going on, he could tell. Demons normally went all out to try and kill him. But the way the succubus just summoned some minions, almost as if she were studying him... "Great..." He knew something bigger would come for him soon; the scout told him everything he needed to know.


	5. Chapter 5

“A succubus?” Lady inquired after returning from a job the next day, somewhat annoyed from the amount of time it took to complete. The news of a succubus running amok was more of a surprise than a concern to her. “Didn't expect to hear that. I thought you dealt with the only one. Any leads on where she came from?”

Dante shook his head, lifting a slice of the fresh pizza he'd recently ordered. “Nope, and no clues on her purpose, either. All I know is that she's a scout, probably working under something bigger.” He paused briefly to bite off a section of the slice. “Pretty much showed up out of the blue last night. Right after that crazy bartender left-” He realized what he'd said and stopped mid-sentence, causing himself to choke on the food in his mouth.

“Right after _what_?” Her hand slammed against the tabletop. “Dante, you better not have done anything to get us banned from the Flame. Or I swear to God, I'll shoot your-”

“Babe, relax.” He held his hands up in defense. “There's no way I'd tap that in her condition. Have a little respect for me. I'm not that bad of a guy.” The flare in her eyes calmed at his words and he continued eating in peace. “So did you get your fill last night?” he asked her between chews.

She shrugged her shoulders. “I suppose. My vibe was taken down a notch after those idiots broke in, but that bartender managed to salvage the night. What was her name again?”

Dante swallowed the food, answering his partner, “I heard her boss call her Azera.” Just saying her name was enough for him to remember everything that happened between them the night before, from her collapsing in his arms to her kiss... She had to still be drunk when she did it. And the way she recovered from that hangover was way too quick for anyone...at least anyone normal. Everything about the bartender was making him suspicious, unsettled. If he had to deal with another person hellbent on destroying the world or taking over it, his head was going to explode. He was beyond tired of all the mayhem. “So when's Trish supposed to be back?”

“Hell if I know,” Lady shrugged. “As long as she's raking in the dough, I could care less.” The phone rang shortly following her reply, and before Dante could get a hand on the receiver, she whisked it away. “Devil May Cry,” she said, then listened to the voice on the other end of the line. Her brow furrowed. “Okay, but-” She was cut off by the speaker. “But we had a deal, in writing. So now you're just gonna-” Lady listened again, her free hand clenching into a fist atop the desk. “Fine,” she growled, and slammed the phone down. Her fist collided with the desk, her teeth bared. She slowly looked up at her partner. “We lost another job...”

“What?” Dante exclaimed, jumping out of his chair. Lady sank, holding her head in one hand and keeping the other closed. Both of them were fuming, her more than him. The business the two had built over the course of over ten years was very successful; being the only one that dealt with demonic activity since the fall of Temen-ni-gru, the partners had every demon slaying job to themselves. Business continued to boom when Trish joined them, though she tended to act more as a silent partner from time to time. But over the last few weeks, clients had been calling them to either negotiate paying a lower price or cancel their appointment completely. The calls became more frequent in the past few days, and the latest one had the potential to bring a lot of money back into the business.

His partner took a deep breath, trying her best to regain her composure. “I think it's the same person as all the rest. His argument alone was similar to the others.” A heavy sigh escaped her mouth. “He said this person gave him 'an offer he couldn't refuse'. Wonder what that meant.”

Dante could only respond with a shrug. The drop in appointments was quite alarming, and if it continued on like this, who knew how much longer their business would thrive, or even cease to exist. With a silent thought, he slapped his hand against the desk and stood up. “Come on, we need a drink.”

“Did you not hear anything I just said?” his human partner snapped, leaning near enough where she could whack him if she wanted to. “We're running out of money, Dante. We haven't got any to splurge on alcohol this time.” Her face turned redder with each enraged word leaving her lips. “This isn't like the money you owe me. You know damn well that if this continues, for even a month, we won't be able to afford doing this anymore.”

His defensive state came up again. “I know, I get it. But if we're going to get to the bottom of this, we need to go in with clear minds. Getting a little loose will help. And I'm not saying we need to get hammered, just relaxed. We'll take care of this and that succubus.” Dante leaned against his desk and awaited Lady's reply. She tapped a finger to her chin, letting his idea sink in. A few nods later she pat his arm and headed for the door,

“You already know the place,” she murmured when he caught up. The demon slayer grunted, annoyed; he knew he'd have to go along with her request if he wanted to keep her calm, and with the day's loss in profit, the last thing he needed was an irate partner. He locked up the shop and followed after her to the Crimson Flame, planning ways to avoid seeing the green-eyed bartender.

They were only steps away from the main entrance to the Crimson Flame when the partners heard people cheering for them. A quick glance at the two brought instant recognition from the night before, and not a soul in the crowd waiting to get into the bar stayed silent when the heroes approached. Dante quickly got sucked into the excitement when a group of women jumped in excitement and reached for their savior, wanting to touch and talk to the man who helped Azera deal with the cretins that stormed in. Lady, already beyond vexed from the phone call, grabbed him by the collar and yanked him away from his fan club, who groaned when he was pulled from their circle. He pointed to the door and mouthed a message to them, saying he'd meet them inside. They were greeted at the entryway by a bulky man who took a closer look at them before allowing them inside ahead of the waiting crowd. A few people on the line complained, but were quickly silenced when the situation was explained to them.

Even on a Thursday night, the Crimson Flame was loud and energetic. The partiers inside gave the hunters another round of applause when they went in, some shaking their hands and patting their backs. A pathway was cleared for them to head for the bar counter. Lady moved down the clearing apace, not bothering to wait for her partner. Dante wasn't in any hurry to join her; the longer he went without seeing the bartender, the better for his sanity. He decided to look for a way to kill time, and found a group of familiar people from the night before, some whose numbers he'd received, and joined them on the dance floor. “You were amazing last night!” one of the women – a redhead – yelled to him over the music. A guy standing on the other side of her grabbed a beer bottle from the table near them and handed it to Dante.

“This one's on me, man!” Dante nodded in thanks and twisted off the top, taking a long sip.

Lady was on her second drink, and despite the lost job earlier, was starting to relax. She remained quiet for most of the time, watching the bartender work her magic behind the counter. Her partner was right about one thing: how she kept up with sending orders into the kitchen, preparing drinks and serving everyone without breaking a sweat wasn't something most people could accomplish. Even the most skilled bartenders sometimes slipped up, but Azera paced herself with grace and never missed an order. Other than that, nothing about her seemed out of the ordinary...not that many things she encountered were near ordinary. The heterochromatic woman assumed Dante was just being paranoid, and felt she needed to calm his nerves before he ruined her chances of ever returning to the most popular nighttime hangout in the city. She leaned forward and tapped the bartender's shoulder, and immediately got her attention. The black haired woman turned to face her as she filled five glasses. “Need a refill?”

“I'm good for now,” she replied, gesturing to her half-full glass. “Just trying to figure out what my partner finds so odd about you. He says you're a 'drunken psycho', or something along those lines.” Both women chuckled at the ridiculous notion. “Personally, I believe he's just overreacting.”

Azera shrugged her shoulders. “I don't blame him. With all the assholes and dangers lurking on the streets, I'd be paranoid, too.” She paused and grabbed a full glass sitting behind the counter to take a gulp of its contents. “But I have a party to run every night, so I have to keep my cool for my guests. Who else would run the show if I weren't here?”

“Your business partner? He seems able to take a punch.” She finished off her drink.

“True,” she agreed, “but he still needs me. Just like the city needs you to protect its citizens from the monsters hiding in the shadows.” She slid Lady's empty glass closer to her.

It took less than a second for Lady to catch on, and her eyes widened. “How'd you-”

“You three had everyone's attention last night. Not to mention my chef and DJ wouldn't stop talking about you. Turns out a few of my patrons have seen you guys in action.” The huntress calmed and sat back on the stool. “Word travels fast in the Crimson Flame, but don't worry: nobody finds you three weird. In fact...” Azera leaned closer to whisper in hear ear. “The DJ can't take his eyes off of you.” A subtle blush overtook Lady's cheeks and she peeked over her shoulder, seeing the DJ glance in her direction and gesture to her.

She shook her head. “I think I'll pass. But if he ever needs some demons taken care of, he can let me know.” As the women continued to converse and Azera passed out drinks, they heard voices collectively escalate. A few yells later, a young man came up next to Lady, his body tensed.

“Just thought you should know some guys over there are close to going at it,” he told Azera. “They're bumping into everyone around them.”

“Great...” she muttered. “Clear the way.” The patron stepped to the side and everyone picked up their drinks. Lady took notice and lifted her glass moments before the bartender leaned on the counter for leverage and hurled her body over to the other side. It was mid-jump when Lady happened to see Azera's bangs fly away from the left side of her face, allowing her to briefly spot a sliver of a dark red marking on the outer corner of her eye. The moment vanished as her feet hit the floor, and she watched her follow the anxious customer to settle the commotion.

On the other side of the bar, Dante was none the wiser to the men seconds from wrestling each other. The company of women surrounding him kept him distracted, and he only started to notice something was amiss when the bartender's familiar voice broke his vibe. “What are you two meatheads doing?” she howled in the direction of the uproar. Assuming she was coming for him and the other guy in the group, the demon slayer quickly turned on heel and readied himself to make a mad dash if she saw him. His luck pulled through when she stormed through the crowd without as much as a passing glance in his direction. With her occupied in a different area, he felt it was the best time to get a drink from the bar, hopefully from the other – more normal – bartender. Dante twisted and nudged his way through people who were eager to see their bouncer teach the ignoramuses a lesson, all the while listening to the confrontation. “You'd better put that bottle down if you know what's good for you!”

He successfully made it the bar, which had emptied a bit, and he took the stool to Lady's right. She didn't have to look to know it was him and kept her eyes on her glass. “If there was any reason at all for you to be paranoid about her,” she began, “it'd only be her information circle. She knows what we do.” His focus shifted from asking for a beer to his partner as the information sank in. “But she's cool about it. As far as we're concerned, she just sees us as paying customers.” Lady returned to her drink, telling the man behind the counter she wanted another. Dante was pretty astonished at how she'd taken the news. For years, the trio had made it difficult for people to track them down; the only way someone would be able to contact them was a password handed off by only certain people, and those people remained incognito to most of the public.

“You sure about that?” he asked after requesting a beer. “You're awfully 'lax.”

“Maybe it's the alcohol, or maybe I trust her. She doesn't look the type to carelessly spread sensitive information. Other than that, she's got an interesting tattoo on her face, if you're into that.” She shrugged her shoulders, and while she left Dante to think about it, she turned the other way to a hand demanding her attention. “That was quick.”

Azera's wave of energy from minutes before had significantly diminished, and she huffed with each breath she took in. Dante saw and felt a little relieved; seeing her out of breath made her look more human. “I need your help,” she told the huntress before eyeing Dante, and shifted so she stood in between them. “Those jerks making a mess over there aren't...'normal'.” She drew closer to them and whispered, “Demons.”

“How can you tell?” Dante asked, his suspicion of her coming back.

“Everything about them's off. They were throwing glass at each other, and I saw a massive pile of bottles at their table. Either they're demons, or they've got immortal livers. I kicked them out, but I'm sure they'll try to come back in. Can you take care of them for me?” Azera reached into her pocket and pulled a money clip out, placing the stack in Lady's hand.

Lady didn't hesitate to count the money, and within a moment jumped off the stool. “Say no more, Azera. We've got this.” She signaled for Dante to follow her, and as he got up and Azera backed away to continue working, he grabbed her arm.

“It's you, isn't it?”

Azera glanced at him over her shoulder. “I have no idea what you're talking about.”

He responded to her tone with a glare. “I saw your arsenal during that fight last night. You're armed like you're going to war. Power like that's only needed for a slaying job.” He let go of her, allowing her to face him. “And I can't help but notice the faint trace of blood stench seeping from your skin. So what's your angle?”

The bartender crossed her arms. “Dante, Dante...you're the infamous demon hunter in town, not me. I'm just a lowly bartender looking out for the safety of my customers.” She tilted her head upward and stepped forward, her arms brushing on his chest. “Maybe if you and your friends were better at your jobs, your clients wouldn't come running to me to clean up your mess.” With her face so near, even in the darkened interior of the bar, Dante picked up on darkened veins running down the left side of her neck whens she flipped her bangs at him.

He leaned down to her level and kept his voice low. “If you've got a complaint about our services, I'm sure my partner would love to hear it,” Dante told her, keeping his sight on the murky plum that spread through her arteries. The further it moved, the quicker he saw the color begin to drain from Azera's face. “And if I were you, I'd give more detailed answers for what happened to you last night.”


	6. Chapter 6

“And if I were you, I'd give more detailed answers for what happened to you last night.” Dante's party vibe had taken a back seat when Azera spoke to him. Was she admitting to taking the jobs originally planned out for Devil May Cry? Or was the bartender purposely being pretentious to get a rise out of him? She was a lot like Lady; he couldn't tell what her next move was going to be, and though nothing usually freaked him out, this did. “And I'm not just talking about the kiss.”

The party around them seemed to go on without so much as a noticing of the two staring one another down. Not even Azera's partner was calling on her, figuring she was discussing the disposal of the inhuman patrons with the snow-haired slayer. Just like the night before, tension filled the surrounding air, and he was left wondering many things, ranging from her ability to handle liquor, to the questionable strength and activities she took part in. In all his years of demon hunting, preventing the human realm from being taken over and fighting his way through life, she was the one oddball that perplexed him beyond any reaches of understanding. “Aww,” she started, laying a hand on his chest, “you sound displeased. I wonder if there's anything I can do to make you feel better...” The hand slid upward, coiling around his neck and brought his face closer to hers. “What about a little dance? Or...” She pushed herself onto her toes and took Dante's lower lip between hers. “Maybe something else. What do you say?” When the demon hunter turned away from her, her free hand rushed downward between his thighs, her fingers dancing around the lining of his zipper. Dante let out an uncomfortable groan, annoyed at the sudden arousal surging through his body. He couldn't even make eye contact without feeling the lust radiating from her stare, and closed his eyes. Azera gave him a low chuckle and slid her tongue from her mouth and into his, pulling his jaw down to complete their kiss. She pressed her body against his, trapping him between herself and the counter. She gave his groin a gentle squeeze, earning more sounds from him, and offered her own muffled moan to him. He was falling into it again, and with each round of their lips smacking against each other's, tasting her saliva and eventually bringing his arms around her waist, he cursed internally for allowing himself to be so easily subdued. It was just when he began to feel himself getting hard that Azera released his mouth and he came back to reality, watching her lick her lips in hunger and readjust her shirt. He hadn't even realized his hands were under the fabric. “It looks like you've had enough for now,” she told him, running her thumb across his cheek, “but I'm sure your partner is wondering where you are, isn't she?” Feeling the blood rush back to his head Dante slapped himself to full alertness. Azera backed away from him and stepped aside. “I'll be here all night. Just come back when you're ready for more.” With another head shake the demon slayer got away from the bartender and headed for the exit, doing his best to get his focus back on point.

He had no idea how long Azera held him hostage, or how nobody noticed the two making out without any remarks toward it, but Dante was relieved when he finally got outside. He drew in a deep breath and almost immediately was hit with the scent of demonic blood. The slayer turned left and bolted after the smell, reaching for the guns that – after the incident with Azera's drunken ex – he swore to always keep tucked in the back of his pants. A trail soon emerged following the scent: pieces of what looked to be torn swatches of beige and tan, spots of blood coating them. It didn't take much longer for him to locate his associate, who he found by seeing a demon body fly out of an alleyway and through the window of an abandoned building. She appeared moments later, hopping backwards and firing at the second demon, which quickly slithered in her direction and did its best to avoid her rain of bullets. Lady heard her partner's footsteps and sneered. “What took you so long?” she asked in a condescending tone as she released the empty clip from one of her guns and reloaded a fresh one into it. “You missed seeing the leeches rip off their skin.” She kicked her leg up when the lizard-like creature lunged at her and knocked it into the adjacent brick wall. It lay limp and she used the precious time to reload her other firearm. In mere moments the demon was up and running again and it lunged a second time, but took five shots to the head and torso while in mid-air and fell to the ground, twitching a few times before dying. Lady breathed a sigh and returned her firearms to their holsters. “You didn't miss much,” she said to him, her tone calmer than a minute before. “Honestly, I don't know why she was so worried about them. Yeah, they're demons, but they were of the weakest variety. Pretty sad excuse for a demon, if you ask me.” She shrugged her shoulders. “Oh well, at least I got paid for th-” Glass from the abandoned building shot out and soon after the first demon jumped through the opening, aiming its serrated teeth at Lady's neck. Dante drew Ivory and emptied half its magazine into the flying creature, which dropped dead before it hit the ground. The huntress turned and stared at the demon, then back up to her partner.

“We have to talk,” he started, kicking the demonic corpse aside as he tucked Ivory back into place. “We're not going back to the Crimson Flame. Ever.” She opened her mouth to protest but he threw a hand up and stopped her. “Turns out that crazy bartender's the one who's taking our jobs. It's why I was late coming here.” Her anger went from 0 to 60 in two seconds and she grabbed her gun again, and emptied the entire clip into the corpse of the nearest creature. Once the pistol only clicked when she pulled the trigger she lowered her arm and huffed, her venting complete. “I asked her why, but she didn't give any answers. Just kept beating around the bush...” He scratched the back of his head.

Lady sucked her teeth, disappointment evident in her tone. “And to think I was starting to like her... It'll be a bitch to break the news to Trish.”

Dante crossed his arms. “To make things better, she tried to pin the blame on us. Said that we were doing the job wrong somehow and she was there to 'clean the mess'.”

“Great.” She placed her gun into its holster again. “So what do we do now?”

Her partner leaned against the brick wall behind him. “I'm gonna wait until her shift is over, try to get some answers out of her. One way or another, this ends now.”

Lady took out her cellphone to check the time. “Well it's 12:38 now, and the bar doesn't close for two more hours.”A yawn escaped her lips. “But you're on your own until tomorrow. I'm exhausted. See ya.” Another yawn broke free and she started down the street, leaving her half-devil partner alone. He watched until her figure faded around a corner of the road, watching and listening to make sure no other demons would appear from a portal and spring a surprise attack on her. Silence followed Lady's departure, leaving him satisfied with her safety.

No other demons were lurking around the area, and Dante felt it was time to return to the bar. Taking one last whiff of the air to search out their scent, he only smelled that which usually lurked through the streets, and turned on his heel. He hadn't wandered far from the bar and was back in twenty minutes, and the women he'd danced with earlier expressed their joy in his return, the taller of the two asking him for another. He happily obliged, though the demon slayer always kept one eye focused on the far side of the establishment, where Azera stayed serving food and drinks. As if she could sense him staring she met his gaze. His blood pressure shot up. She continued to serve her customers and kept her attention on running the business, but Dante swore she'd winked at him between refilling someone's glass and ringing up an order. He averted his gaze. The more he looked at her, the more uneasy he felt.

2:20 quickly approached. The life of the party in the bar had died down significantly, with only Dante and a few other patrons remaining. Last call had been at 2am, giving the workers plenty of time to clean up shop for the night. Gus was busy turning the chairs over and laying them on the tables while the cook was washing the last of his cutlery and putting it away. Azera tended to the bar area, placing the liquor bottles back into place and wiping down the counter before stacking the bar stools on top, half watching the DJ pack up his gear. “Alright, people,” Gus started in his still nasal-y voice, “time to pack it up. We'll be open again at 4.” He made his way around the space and ushered the last guests out. As he came up to Dante he gave a quick grin and offered the demon hunter his hand. “You're Dante, right? I never got a chance to thank you for helping out last night.”

“Yeah, what was up with those guys?” he asked as he shook the owner's hand. Dante tilted his head and moved in closer to get a look at Gus' face. Bruises had formed under his eyes, and even beneath the cast on his nose the damage from being punched was visible. “Sheesh, he really did a number on you.”

Gus shrugged. “Nothing I haven't handled before, though it sure hurt a lot more.” He let out a chuckle. “Anyway, I know Azera told you the big guy was her ex-boyfriend. Real dick. Possessive, too. Never liked hearing someone tell him 'no'. And, well..” He gestured his arm out to the little bit of damage left from the fight. “But it looks like we won't ever see him again, so that makes the healing process easier.”

Dante crossed his arms and nodded in Azera's direction. “You've got a good partner on your hands, though I can't say I approve of her drinking on the job.”

“She can handle herself. You saw it with your own eyes.” Azera whistled in his direction and Gus' awareness shifted to her. He hopped toward the bar area and waved to Dante. “I'll see ya tomorrow.” The bar owner caught up to his partner and helped her with the last of the stools, and Dante knew it was time to leave. He discarded the empty bottle he'd held onto and left the premises. He made a sharp turn around the corner and rested his back against the wall. The last customers walked out of the building, some holding their friends and ordering them not to throw up until they got home. At 2:32 the six employees exited the bar and stayed until Gus locked the door, then said their goodbyes and parted ways. Dante peeked his head out from around the corner but quickly pulled back when Azera came his way. She didn't seem to notice his presence and kept walking, and Dante waited until she was a good distance away to follow her, and became aware of something hanging off her hip.

The streets were dead silent. Azera had walked five blocks without so much as a glance over her shoulder. The demon slayer didn't like the feel of the night's silence or the bartender's lack of awareness for her surroundings. When she stepped into the intersection of the sixth block Azera stopped. “How much longer will you be following me?” she asked out loud, and Dante knew his cover was blown. He stepped out into the open as she turned around to face him. “If you wanted to accompany me home, all you had to do was ask.”

“You still never answered me,” Dante argued. “Why are you taking my team's hunting jobs?” Even from a distance of thirteen feet he could make out the veins on her neck, which had reverted back to their original color. He was sure the murky purple hadn't been a trick of the bright lights flickering in the bar, but in the dim lighting outside and with her hair draping over her shoulder, the slayer was beginning to think he'd seen things.

Azera shook her head. “I already told you, dear Dante, it has nothing to do with me 'stealing' your clients. It's not my fault your customers are so drawn to me. You just have to learn to pique their interests.”

“Quit beating around the bush.”

“Fine, fine... I guess I'll have to show you what I mean.” The bartender reached her right hand to the holster strung through her belt loops and retrieved a dark platinum-shaded pistol. She aimed the double barrels at him, immediately igniting a reaction from him. Ebony and Ivory's barrels were pointed in her direction. “Aww, you're breaking my heart...” Azera pulled the trigger and fired a pair of bullets at the devil hunter. He did the same, one bullet flying from each of his guns. Neither person moved, or even turned their heads to acknowledge the demonic creatures on either side of them. The ones next to Azera hit the ground with a thud when the bullets flew through their skulls, and the ones flanking Dante soared backward a few feet before their torsos exploded in midair. Dante's gaze flashed back to her, stunned not by her exceptional aim, but by the damage she caused the lesser demons. The bartender blew a trail of smoke away from the barrels. “Don't look so shocked. Or have you never seen exploding bullets before?”

Before he had a chance to answer her Dante saw a horde of demons surround them. He met Azera's eyes for a brief second, then removed his attention from her to focus on the swarm. Azera shot through five of the creatures before feeling it was time to get serious and she reached for her other holster, and drew a long machete. The demons, whose appearances resembled melted animal flesh and spiked scales, did their best to separate the two fighters and create distance between them. More of them went after Dante, seeming to know of the reputation of the son of Sparda. “I thought I was done with you guys already!” he complained.

"You, for one, should know-" She planted her foot through one of their bodies and kicked it off- "that the smell of any blood draws them in. Literally like flies to bright light." A set of jaw lunged at her stomach and Azera leaned out of the way, shoving the blade of her machete into the demon's mouth and slicing its head in half. She maneuvered into a backflip, balancing on her sword-wielding hand; and when several more of the creatures surrounded her, she forced herself into a spin. The stilettos strapped to the heels of her boots slashed the nearby creatures, knocking them far back enough where Dante could easily get a shot.

Two rounds of ammo later, the lesser demons seemed to be gone. Their corpses littered the street, and Azera wondered how long it would take for them to disintegrate. Before sunrise, she hoped, so potential customers wouldn't become fearful of stepping outside the safety of their homes to come and taste her drinks. "They'll be gone before the sun comes up," Dante commented, having read the expression on her face. "Then again, it's surprising you don't know."

Azera shrugged her shoulders. "I never really stick around to see what becomes of them. I show up, kill demons, collect the cash, and I'm out in an hour." She loosened her gun's magazine and counted the remaining bullets before pushing the plastic case back inside and sheathing the weapon. Leaning against one of the buildings she wiped a bead of sweat from her forehead. It was a rarity for battling against lesser demons to tire her, even in the slightest. Dante, busy with pushing the corpses from the middle of the street, gave the huntress a passing glance as he kicked one of the corpses to the curb, and noticed a strange glow reflecting from her skin. In the path of the street lamps her skin looked normal, but in the shadow of the building that blocked all but a sliver of light from the moon, Azera's shoulders and arms showed a faint hint of blue-green reflecting off her skin.

* * *

In the depths of a barren wasteland, a lone castle stood as lightning barraged the roof of the highest tower. The structure had been desecrated over the hundreds of years it existed, demons and hellish creatures of all kinds wreaking havoc when they entered. The castle had been the sight of many battles, and to the few who knew, was once the residence of the legendary dark knight Sparda. He'd abandoned his fortress long ago in the fight to liberate humanity from the clutches of demons who sought to exterminate them. He and two comrades stood together alongside humans to fight for survival, in which they'd been successful until recent years, where stronger creatures of hell would attempt to reverse the stability in the human realm. Nowadays, the castle seemed empty, save the presence of a looming figure who ascended a flight of stairs and knocked on a door that once encased Sparda's private chamber.

"Enter," a voice replied from the other side, and the figure opened the door. Footsteps carried the tall body into the room, then stopped beside a large chair carved from metal and the bones of a large demon. A second figure sat in the throne, head leaning in hand, draped in only tattered clothes beneath a long gray cloak. A free hand reached out to the visitor, calloused and scarred, to grab a red crystalline object being handed over. The item was briefly inspected before being crushed, and its energy seeped through the pores of the skin into the veins. The person in the throne flexed his hand twice, then turned to his visitor with a sigh. "Remind me again why you rescued me."

"Are you still questioning my motives?" the visitor replied as he retracted his gloved hand. "When I found you wandering in the deepest depths of Hell, you were but a shell of your former self. You were half-sane, fighting merely to survive... Not acting how a Son of Sparda would-"

Vergil suddenly jumped from the throne and bared his teeth. "I told you to never mention that name in my presence again."

The visitor was unfazed by Vergil's anger. "If I hadn't found you," he continued, "you would've died at the hands of the demons you so desperately tried to rule." He laid a hand over his own chest, caressing the area where his heart sat. "When you defeated Mundus all those years ago and tried to become king of the human realm - a king that would've been just and led them on the right path - **he** stood in your way. **He** ripped everything out from under you, his own flesh and blood, because he thought the humans had enough sense to carve their own path." The more his visitor spoke, the more Vergil sneered. "And now you sit here, broken and battered, while he and your heir make child's play of the delicate balance between humanity and demons."

"That _thing_ is not my son." The mere mention of Nero was enough that, if he had Yamato in his possession, the visitor would've become the punished one. He refused to acknowledge Nero's existence as anything more than a stupid mistake made when he was fresh from Mundus' control. If he was forced to make contact with Nero, it would only be to take back the demonic katana bestowed onto him by Sparda.

"And that's exactly why we must act now," the visitor concluded, and snapped his fingers. In seconds the door to the bedchamber opened again, and a gray figure entered the room. Her barbed tail swished from side to side as she approached the throne, and guided herself to a knee. Her red eyes pierced the ice in Vergil's as she met his gaze, grinning from ear to ear. "Calvaro will follow your every command. Use her as you see fit in obtaining Yamato." He looked down at the succubus, watching the smaller pairs of eyes adorning her face blink slowly at her masters. "Finding Yamato shouldn't be a problem for you, am I right?"

"Of course, Brathua." The visitor's name rolled off her split tongue when she said it in her echoed voice.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bringing in some unused elements of the series, as well as (possibly) canon material that hasn't been discussed. Also felt it was time to bring in a few more characters.

Plain and simple: Nero needed a vacation.

After everything that happened in Fortuna following Dante's investigation and subsequent arrival, the Order of the Sword was in shambles. Fortuna's religion, army, and political system were but shells of their former states. The people were left lost, unsure of what to believe in. Her people scrambled to rebuild whatever sense of community they had left in their broken cities. The island had long kept itself isolated from surrounding land, and without the protection of the Order, many were ready to leave. Surrounded by chaos and misfortune - a misfortune he played a large role in - Nero felt at least some of the responsibility of looking after Fortuna and whatever future she possibly had. He gathered what remained of the Order and began the system anew. The young hybrid looked to Credo's leadership in the past and applied some of his principles to the new order, which he renamed Fortuna's Shield. The first order of business for Fortuna's Shield was to establish a new government, one that the demon slayer knew would benefit the safety and prosperity of the island's people. A parliament was put into place with members selected by vote from the public. Many of Fortuna's people wanted the hybrid to become their country's leader, but Nero lacked the knowledge a head of state needed to properly govern a country, and he declined the offer, instead choosing one of Credo's most trusted subordinates to govern in his place. Having studied politics whilst singing in the former Order's main church, Kyrie graciously offered her services to the people, and became a secretary to the parliament leader. She became an advocate for the people, one beloved by all, and her days of singing dwindled as her responsibilities grew.

Nero wasn't spared from the responsibilities of protecting his country. With the Order rebuilt into Fortuna's Shield he assumed leadership of the army, having the most combat experience out of the surviving members. His leadership wasn't questioned, and he worked alongside Kyrie and the parliament to establish contact and alliances with neighboring countries. Trade embargoes once hammered in place were dismantled, and for the first time in nearly a century, Fortuna truly prospered. Her citizens were able to live comfortable lives, and due to the influences of the outside world, many cultural aspects changed. The people were no longer bound by strict religious rules to dress a certain way and shroud their faces with hoods. The religion that worshiped the dark knight Sparda didn't completely vanish from existence, however; there were still many chapels open in his name, and many still preached of his greatness and loyalty to humanity.

There were more than a few who stopped Nero as he passed by on the street and mentioned how alike he and the Savior looked. It began to bother him as they explained the similarities in the facial structures of him and the holy demon, how their hair and eyes - when he learned Sparda had a human cloak - were the same color, the broadness of their shoulders matching... Too spot-on to be a coincidence. Nero wandered into the labs one day and asked the new head scientist for any research material on Sparda or his descendant, whom everyone in Fortuna now knew was Dante. Little of anything on the dark knight was salvageable after the Order incident, and what little information had been saved proved useless. He decided to try one last thing. Nero traveled to the orphanage he grew up in and asked to see his records. After digging through the old records the headmistress handed him a folder. He pulled the file from inside, and as his eyes scanned the pages, they widened. He knew of his mother: a young woman, aged around twenty, brown hair and brown eyes, who'd given him up because of poverty and falling fatally ill just days later. The news that stunned him was that of his father. For as long as he'd been alive Nero knew nothing of his father, but as he read the next page of the record, his jaw dropped. A man in his late teens, possibly early twenties. Described by his mother, he had blue eyes and silvery-white hair, and a strong resemblance to the Savior... Nobody really believed her as she was becoming sick, but with the need to fill in some sort of description, the headmistress wrote it anyway. A lump formed in Nero's throat. Approaching the age of twenty-one, his father would be anywhere from thirty-eight to forty-three... An age range Dante fit into.

When he returned to the apartment he and Kyrie shared later that evening, she could see the stress digging into his form. He divulged the news to her and expressed his quickly growing concern over the matter. The stress of the news combined with that of managing a newly constructed army and he felt a headache set in. Kyrie prepared some tea for them and sat down next to her boyfriend, doing her best to relive his tension. "The only way to learn the truth would be talking to Dante," she told him as she laid a hand on his thigh. "Otherwise you'll never find out and this will eat at you forever." She looked at him with her own increased worry, and after a moment, offered him a smile. "I'll go with you, if you'd like. You don't have to do this alone."

And it was decided. Kyrie arranged for some time off for her and Nero to take a vacation outside of Fortuna. The country's defenses were left in capable hands as they packed their bags. When Kyrie left to greet the driver who would bring them and their belongings to the awaiting ship, Nero swiftly ran to his closet and reached to the highest shelf, pulling down a thick, old book. He blew dust from the cover and wiped it off with his fingers, staring at the cover. Its title was in a demonic text, one he still had trouble reading, but the few words he could make out told of a demon's true power. It was something he felt Dante would need to see if he were paying the elder hybrid a visit; at the same time, there were things mentioned in the text that troubled him, and he didn't want Kyrie finding out. He stuffed the book into his duffle bag before she returned upstairs.

The trip from Fortuna to Elanay City took them three long days by boat, and after they docked at port, Nero was more than happy to step off the ship. He was never one for traveling by water; his first missions in the Order required him to traverse the island through rivers, and his sensitivity to water travel made the trips all the more annoying. He was grateful for the taxi driver's prompt arrival to the port; it meant he was one step closer to a bed that didn't aimlessly sway from side to side without any control from him. When they made it to the hotel room, Nero immediately flopped onto the queen-sized mattress, thanking the Savior for once in his life. By then it was eight in the evening, a time Nero assumed Dante would either be out slaying demons, partying, or doing whatever else he did on a Monday night. The meeting with the man who could be his father would come in the morning; for now, the young slayer needed sleep.

Sleep didn't remain for long, unfortunately, and by three in the morning, he was awake again. Nero watched Kyrie sleep next to him, her chest rising and falling at a steady pace. Seeing her eyes closed reminded him momentarily of the time Agnus kidnapped her, when he thought she was gone for good. Remembering that horrible moment made his headache return, and the young demon slayer felt the sudden need for fresh air. He rolled out of bed, moving slow to not wake Kyrie, and stepped out onto the balcony attached to their suite. He looked at the empty street below. Any clubs that were thriving when they pulled up to the hotel were closed for the night, making the outside world quiet... Too quiet for him. He always assumed Elanay City was the city that never took a break for anything, not even at three in the morning. The silence reminded him of Fortuna City - which he currently wanted to forget about. Sighing, Nero turned to peer over his shoulder at his girlfriend as he contemplated trying to go back to sleep.

He heard a scream. Nero flinched, his attention returning to the street. He spotted a form in the dim light of the street lamps, stumbling in mid-run, whimpering intertwined with her scream. At the same time a strange scent in the air hit him - ginseng and lavender, flowing the same way the woman ran. From the corner of his eye he saw a flash of fire, and three basilisks rounded the corner after her. It added up immediately, and just as fast he grabbed his hoodie and Red Queen. He took a few steps back and jumped to the street below, landing and rolling out between the victim and the demons. "Find somewhere to hide!" he yelled to her, and she didn't hesitate in following his order. Nero rested Red Queen's tip before the basilisk in the middle of the pack, watching the demonic hounds scope him out. One shifted its focus to the injured woman and crouched, readying to dart past the hunter and lunge. It leaped off its hind legs and let out a growl, but before it could get past Nero, the hunter sliced through its body, sending limbs flying left and right. The others became wary as they witnessed the death of one of their own. Nero scanned the area behind the basilisks when the ginseng scent lingering around them grew stronger, and approaching footsteps got louder. "Guess my vacation's over."

The footsteps stopped before making it to the corner. "Afraid to show yourself, huh?" Nero took a step forward, and the basilisks hunched in a readied position. "Then I'll just play with your little scouts." The demon to Nero's right jumped first, the flames pouring from its neck forming a jaw to rip out his throat. Nero leaned out of its range, and when the basilisk neared the ground again, he formed a specter of his right arm and grabbed the demon's body. The remaining hell creature lunged for him, but met only air when the hunter spun out of the way, taking his catch with him. He used the momentum in his spin to swing Red Queen, knocking the free creature into the brick wall of a nearby alleyway. The demon in his grasp was slammed on the ground twice before being thrown into the air. Nero revved his blade's gas pedal and heated her metal, then slashed upward as the basilisk fell back to the earth and tore it to shreds. The basilisk from the alleyway flew back into battle with an echoing growl. Nero caught it in his Devil Bringer hand and crushed it, dropping the remains onto the ground. He turned to the far side of the street and saw the woman peering out from behind a building, hand grasping the wall in fear. Nero gave her a reassuring nod and she crept into the open, doing her best to adjust her torn sweater over her frame. "You okay?"

The woman nodded. "Thank you," she told him. "What were those things?"

"Demons. Though I never thought I'd see that kind here..." From the research the scientists in Fortuna City had gathered over the years, Basilisk-species demons were unique to the valleys leading to Fortuna Castle. There were similar looking species in other parts of neighboring countries, but none were close enough to be direct relatives of the Basilisk. As he pondered how the demons could've spawned so far from their usual territory, he noticed the once fearful woman's demeanor calm unusually fast. She stood straight and let go of the tattered remains of her sweater, and the fabric dragged against the asphalt when she took a step forward. The woman's walking pace was slow and wobbly, as if she were in some sort of trance, Nero took note of. Her mouth was partially open, her stare fixed directly in front of her. "Hey, what's wrong?" She ignored his voice and continued treading forward, in the direction she'd run from. The increased intensity in the lingering scent left him uneasy, and at the same time, foggy in the mind. "Wait!" Nero yelled at the woman, reaching out his phantom right hand to stop her without harming her. As his fingers curled around her body, another voice echoed from down the street.

"Darling, let the poor thing be," it said to him in protest. "She's only answering her primal instincts." The footsteps from earlier came about again. A gray figure emerged from the shadows, surrounded by hundreds of tiny scorpions that crawled and squeaked around her. The hypnotized woman pushed Nero's spectral hand aside and continued forward to the beckoning figure. "That's right. I can end your loneliness, sweet child. That man was no good for you..." Nero picked up on the faint stench of blood mixed in with the ginseng, which he figured out was pouring from the figure's mouth. Red droplets hung from its smirked lips.

"...A succubus." His clouding mind calmed the more he breathed in the sweet ginseng air. The muscles in his limbs became relaxed and tense at the same time; he felt calm, but he couldn't move.

The demon chuckled. "What's this thing before me? A human hunter? No... Something...familiar." She licked the blood from her lips. "Ah, yes, I've seen this face before in another." The human woman stopped in front of the succubus and looked up at the demon that towered over her. "Tell me, young hunter, are you one of Sparda's descendants?" The succubus reached a clawed arm to the woman. The claw split in two, revealing a hand normal in shape, and she cupped the woman's chin.

Nero nodded, feeling the motion was done against his will. "...How did you know?"

"There's no mistaking it. You reek of his stench." The succubus opened her mouth, unhinging her jaw to widen it beyond what was humanly possible. Nero found his strength again and lunged forward. His spectral hand emerged from the Devil Bringer again and knocked the demon into a far off building. The woman in her trance stumbled and fell, and Nero bolted over and caught her in his human arm. Checking her eyes, it appeared that she had regained control over herself. Her gaze darted to the white-haired form shoved into a building across the street and immediately tucked her face into Nero's hoodie, not wanting to know what almost happened to her. The woman gripped the fabric of his sweater in her hands, afraid to let go. He looked down at her and motioned his chin for her to hide, his glance reassuring her that she'd be safe. The woman ran off into the alleyway again, poking her head out to watch the battle.

The noise from the street woke Kyrie. She heard the battle and ran to the balcony, and saw Nero's spectral hand wrapped tight around the succubus. "Nero!" she called to him, her hands tight around the balcony railing. Nero glanced up at the sound of her voice, distracted just long enough for the succubus to send her poison-tipped tendrils in his direction. Sensing the oncoming attack he let her go and dove left, rolling out behind a dumpster. He revved Red Queen and rushed toward the demon, slashing his blade from right to left.

"Any descendant of that wretch must perish!" The demon jumped out of the way of his strike, her hair slithering through the air to stab through him. Nero blocked them with his right arm, feeling the blackened tips of the tendrils attempt to dig through his armored skin. Pink liquid dripped from holes in the tips, some hitting the floor and hissing as they melted the asphalt. He grabbed onto the hair and pulled the succubus in, spinning her around twice before slamming her into the ground. He lifted Red Queen up and stabbed it downward, barely missing the demon's neck when she rolled out of the way. Her eyes darted to the balcony, where Kyrie still stood and watched the fight. The succubus let out an echoing growl and sent her tendrils to the balcony. Kyrie jumped backward, missing the piercing ends of the hairs by mere inches, and ducked inside the hotel room. Nero raced to the side of the hotel and swung Red Queen at the succubus, slicing through her hair when she attempted to scale the building. He kicked her away as she fell and grabbed at the railing with his spectral hand, pulling himself up to the balcony. Nero and Kyrie looked down at the succubus, meeting her gaze as she staggered to her feet. She tried one last time to subdue Nero by thrusting the pointed end of her tail at them, but was stopped again by Nero's Devil Bringer slapping it away. The succubus bared her teeth at them, hissing, and leaped over an alley way, running off into the night.

Nero waited until the demon was gone to breathe a sigh. Kyrie pulled his right arm over her shoulder and helped the exhausted slayer inside, setting him onto the mattress. "What kind of demon was she?"

"Succubus," he replied between breaths. "That's what I think, at least." He wiped some sweat from his forehead and drew in air, thankful he'd brought his sword with him on the trip. "But the way she just ran off afterward... It's so weird." Nero rolled out his shoulders and straightened his back. He hadn't faced a demon of that caliber since fighting those who guarded the Hell Gates on his initial journey to track down Dante. "I wonder if he knows about this..." Nero knew he'd have to visit the elder hunter first thing in the morning, and not just to discuss family matters. The subject of the demon lurking the streets would bring some relief to their conversation, but he knew ultimately that sooner or later, he'd have to ask if Dante was his father. Another headache began to set in and Nero laid back on the mattress, resting an arm above his head. So much for his vacation.

By nine in the morning Kyrie and Nero were dressed and out the door. The latter had managed to get some sleep after the fight with the gray-skinned succubus, though the headache remained into the mid-morning hours. Coffee helped wake him up, and as he read the daily paper, a realization set in. Dante had no idea they were coming; therefore, no direction to his establishment. He pinched the bridge of his nose and cursed under his breath. Kyrie rubbed his neck to try and help him calm down. They could ask for directions, she nearly told him, but quick thought made her hold her tongue. Dante's business dealt with demons; a norm in Elenay City, yes, but still a matter that was swept under the rug. The subject of demons was never discussed in the open no matter where one went. Kyrie tapped her chin. "If we take a walk around town, we're bound to run into him," she suggested. "We are technically on vacation." The word was far from the experience, Nero felt, but Kyrie's theory was the only lead they had to go on. Not knowing how the people in town would react to his Devil Bringer, Nero played it safe and wore long sleeves. Kyrie wrapped his hand in bandages and helped him into the sling he once wore every day.

Their first stop was a curio shop near the middle of town. Nero brought a small book bag with him to hide the old Fortuna textbook from his girlfriend, which she assumed was to hold water bottles and anything they happened to buy on their trip. A wind chime hanging by the window caught her eye, and while she shopped the hunter asked the shop keeper about any strange happenings when the sun set, laying emphasis on 'happenings'. The shop keeper's eyes widened and he cleared his throat. "There are creatures who lurk the streets, usually at night," he began. "When it comes to dealing with them, there's only one group you'd call to handle the situation, but they don't openly advertise their services."

"So how do I get a meeting with them?"

The shop keeper glanced at the door, making sure no other customers were planning on walking in, before reaching into his pocket and retrieving a folded piece of paper. "A regular of mine managed to snag their address. I hope you know what you're getting yourself into, son." Nero gave him a nod and took the folded paper from him, and moments later Kyrie came to the register with a wind chime she'd picked out. The shop keeper's demeanor returned to normal at the sight of the young woman. "I'll ring you up." He jogged to his register and typed in the price of the item, taking the money handed to him and giving back the change. "Have a good day," he said to them as they made their way out, and as he watched them it dawned on the man that the young man he'd spoken to bore a striking resemblance to the local demon slayer.

Nero and Kyrie took a break for lunch at a diner before heading to Dante's place, which they learned was named Devil May Cry. The former rolled his eyes at the cliche name, wondering what possessed the elder demon hunter to give his business such a title. "I think it's pretty clever," Kyrie told him as she tasted her soup. "It sounds poetic."

"Sounds like he pulled it out of his ass," Nero commented before biting into his hamburger. Kyrie shrugged her shoulders. She knew he only half meant it; most of his mind was still focused on the disturbing news he'd learned days ago. He took a sip from his glass of soda, eyebrows still scrunched. Kyrie could tell he was deep in thought about his situation.

"Do you want to come right out and ask him?" His gaze dropped to his utensils. The more he thought about it, the more Nero wanted to forget it. Dante, his father? He couldn't picture the red-clad hunter in the position of dad, and trying to imagine him acting like one... It gave him shivers. Reaching for the rest of his burger, he dropped his hand, his frazzled nerves cutting his appetite short. He pushed the plate to the edge of the table and reached into his coat, taking out his wallet. He summoned their waiter and asked for the check, and didn't bring up the subject of his possible parents again. Kyrie kept quiet on the matter when they paid the bill for lunch and put in money for the tip. He was already tense; with their next stop being Devil May Cry, she only wanted to ease his nerves and give him a reassuring shoulder to lean on.

They purposely dragged out the walk to Devil May Cry. It was seven blocks away from the diner - seven chances for Nero to change his mind and decide to high-tail it back to Fortuna. Each step had him grabbing Kyrie's hand tighter. He bit his bottom lip and scratched at his nose when not holding her hand, and his right hand squirmed in the suddenly too-itchy sling. Kyrie wrapped a hand around his arm and laid the other on his shoulder. "Everything will be alright," she said to him over and over again, and when they made it to Devil May Cry's front door, he froze. "Nero..." The young hunter gulped and nodded, eyes fixed to the front door, hesitant to step any closer. Kyrie began to walk up the stairs and slid her hand down his arm to meet his hand, tugging him along. He bit his lip again and followed after her, nearly biting his tongue when she knocked on the door.

There was no answer, but on the other side of the door they heard footsteps coming closer. The lock clicked and the large wooden doors swung open. "Trish, where the hell have you been? The job was only suppo-" Dante's voice stopped short when he didn't see a woman resembling his mother, and instead was greeted by a familiar crop of white hair and his brunette girlfriend. "Well, this is a, uh..." They were the last people he expected to see at his door. "Uh, yeah... Nice to see you again, kid." He briefly looked to Kyrie. "Kid's girlfriend."

"Nice to see you again," Kyrie said, wanting to break the awkward silence lingering. "Can we come inside? There's...something important we have to talk about." The fact that Kyrie was the one to speak and not Nero - who dd his best to avoid any eye contact with Dante - told the elder hunter that whatever needed to be talked about was serious. Dante scratched the back of his neck and took a step away from the door, motioning for the two to come inside. Nero, though still reluctant to get it over with, went into Devil May Cry with his girlfriend. The inside wasn't a decrepit as Nero ever imagined it'd be, though he wasn't the least bit surprised when he spotted a few beer bottles littering the desk near the back wall. Aside from a pool table, couch with slightly worn upholstery and Dante's weapons hanging on the wall behind the desk, the interior was pretty drab. He supposed it made sense to keep the decor low-key to keep up the impression of the 'odd job' look that the curio shop keeper had told him about. Dante shut the door and motioned his chin to the couch, and asked them if they wanted something to drink. "We just ate, thank you," the young woman informed him, and Dante rushed over to the refrigerator to fetch himself a beer. He returned to them immediately and leaned against a beam, popping the top off his bottle.

"...So what brings you two here?"

And Nero knew it was finally time to talk. He cleared his throat and took his right arm out of the sling. "Well..." Nero mentally smacked himself, trying to get a grip. "We've been busy rebuilding Fortuna and decided to take a little vacation. We've been working non-stop to restore everything. And while working, I found something you might be interested in." The younger hunter took off his book bag and opened the zipper, and retrieved the old book from inside. He handed it to Dante, who immediately began to examine the cover. "It's written in some kind of demonic text. I can only read a little bit of the writing, but it looks like some kind of guide or manual, and it talks about something called the 'Perfect Devil Trigger'."

The term piqued Dante's interest. He flipped through the book until Nero pointed at the right page and skimmed its contents. "Unfortunately I have no knowledge in translating demonic text, so we'll have to wait until Trish gets back from her job so she can read it. But I'm not sure when she's coming back, so..." Dante shrugged his shoulders. "Anything else I can do for you?"

Kyrie gave Nero a gentle jab in his side with her elbow, reminding him of the reason they came to Elanay City. "Can you tell me where the bathroom is? I need to freshen up." Dante pointed to the hallway next to his desk and Kyrie stood up, walking away. She gave Nero a nod before vanishing into the bathroom, leaving him and his possible relative alone. Nero groaned. This wasn't a matter to be taken lightly. He knew he couldn't just yell the question out loud, and even if he _could_ , he was too embarrassed to do it.

"Dante..." he began, and the elder hunter glance in his direction while sipping his beer. Nero gulped, his nerves getting to him again. "I happened to be working around the orphanage where I grew up and stumbled upon my records. It, uh..." Dante seemed to be half-listening, his mind mostly focused on a different matter. Maybe if he just let it out like Kyrie suggested, it'd be easier. "...I think you're my father."

Beer flew across the room as Dante lost his footing and slid off the beam he leaned against, nearly falling onto the couch. Nero shielded his face from the side of the oncoming spray. After choking for a few seconds Dante looked down at Nero, squinting. "You want to run that by me again?"

"My records have the description my mother gave of the man who's supposedly my father. He's said to have white hair and blue eyes." He was getting really uncomfortable as Dante got closer to him. "People all over Fortuna keep saying I look so much like Sparda, like **your** father. And the demonic powers!" Nero threw his hands in the air and let out a sigh. "Who else could I have inherited these traits from? Unless Sparda's somehow alive..." He shook his head. "But he's been gone for too long." The anxiety building up in him made Nero stand up and start to pace in front of the couch. "It's been bothering me since I read those records, Dante. I can't sleep at night. I can't stop thinking about it." He stopped in front of Dante, and for the first time all day, met the elder hunter's eyes. "Please, tell me... Are you my father?"

Dante let the information sink in and, much quicker than Nero thought he would, Dante answered. "Ah, shit. I've been afraid of this day coming." Dante got up from the couch and walked over to his desk. "Look, kid... Ever since I went to Fortuna and met you, I knew we were the same. And not the same in the sense of having demonic abilities. There's no mistaking the similarities you and I have in our appearances." He paused to finish his beer. "I've been with a lot of women, kid, more than I can count. But I know for a fact that I was careful. I made sure not to knock any of 'em up. And until I went to Fortuna, I never knew you existed. So..." Dante shook his head.

Nero lowered his head. One question was answered; Dante was not Nero's father. "But then why-"

"Let me finish." Nero held his tongue. "You're not my son, Nero, but that doesn't mean we're not related." The younger hybrid perked his head up. "You and I have similarities, but not from me. If anything, you're my brother's son. And I highly doubt we need any kind of DNA test to prove it when you can use Yamato without a problem." Dante crossed his arms and smirked. "To think you had it in you, Vergil..."

"Vergil..." Nero repeated the name of the man who he now knew to be his father. It was strange to finally have a name and face to go with the vague description so many ridiculed him about for years. Having kept the bathroom door open a crack and listened on to their conversation, Kyrie finally came out and rejoined them, happy to see the weight lifted off of Nero's shoulders. Seeing his girlfriend walk back into the room, Nero cleared his throat again. "Kyrie, turns out Dante's not my father, but my uncle." It felt weird to say.

As the pressure surrounding them diminished, the front door flew open again. Lady and Trish stomped into the shop, both sporting pouts and scrunched eyebrows. The blonde tossed her guns onto the desk, ignoring her business partner's presence, and dumped the briefcase onto the edge. She stormed down the hallway and opened the door to the basement, and disappeared downstairs without a word. Lady groaned at Trish's arrogance and nodded to Dante, showing some sort of regard for his existence. "We lost another job," she sneered.

Dante jumped from his chair. "You're shitting me!"

"Don't make light of this, Dante! If you don't stop that bitch from the bar from taking our calls, I will. And you **don't** want me to clean up this mess!" Lady reached in her side pouch and tossed a roll held together with a rubber band to his waiting hands. "We lose one more job, and **we** might be out of a job." She turned on her heel, gave Nero and Kyrie a short greeting, and walked to the half-open front door, more than ready to call it a day, and after taking one step she halted. "...The hell are you doing here?"

"I'm here on business."

"Bullshit." Lady didn't move from her spot as the woman at the door walked into Devil May Cry, and Dante's mood went south. Nero immediately hid his right arm behind his back. Kyrie watched the black-haired woman approach Dante's desk and lay her hands on top, leaning close to the lead demon hunter.

"What do you want, Azera?"

Azera cocked her head to the side and smiled. "I'd like to negotiate a deal."


	8. Chapter 8

Nero watched the black-haired woman walk past Lady, ignoring the latter's rants and complaints, and head straight for Dante's desk. At first glance she looked nice: Trish's height, bangs hanging over her left eye, and curves in what Dante would consider to be all the right places. He couldn't deny that she was attractive. She carried herself with confidence to the elder slayer's desk, glancing at him as she passed by, and for a second he could've sworn she winked at him. Nero turned away from her with a sharp inhale. Former Order member Gloria had acted in a similar fashion toward him when they first met, and even then he wasn't comfortable with it.

"What do you mean, negotiate?" Dante asked the bartender. The surprise visit from Nero and Kyrie had thrown him for a loop; he didn't need any more surprises like her catching him off guard. "If you're here to play games we'll have to settle this matter lat-"

"Do you want your jobs back or no?" Her question immediately silenced him and Lady. "I'll take that as a yes." Azera sat herself on top of his desk and leaned over to him, reaching for his chin and turning his face to hers when he looked in the other direction. Before he had a moment to question what she was doing she pulled his lips in to meet hers in a deep kiss, and she separated three seconds later. Kyrie blushed at the gesture and covered her face with her hands."Now that I have your attention," she started, "I'll explain myself. There obviously isn't enough room for two demon-slaying parties in Elanay City; your partners have made that quite clear. I'm willing to give up taking any future jobs you may get called for. No negotiation, no involvement."

Dante raised an eyebrow as he pushed his chair back, creating some space between himself and the bartender. Her offer seemed way too easy. "And what do you get out of this?" He was afraid of what the answer might be, and if she were anything like Lady, it heightened his fear.

Azera hopped off of Dante's desk, exchanging a glance with Lady, who looked like she wanted to shoot the other woman in the head. "You both need to calm down. You look like I'm asking for the deed to your shop. No, what I want is much simpler than that." She reached to the holster resting against her thigh and took out her pistol, looped her finger through the trigger guard and spun it a few times. "My ammo supplier was killed by some demons a few days ago. An unfortunate circumstance, and now I've got nowhere to get bullets." Her gaze left the pistol and returned to Dante. "Become my ammo supplier and all the jobs are yours. Sound fair?"

Before he could answer Trish returned from the basement. Her eyes landed on Azera. "What's she doing here, Dante?" the blonde demon demanded, about ready to grab her guns from the desk and do what Lady wanted to.

"You can relax, babe." Dante held his arm out to calm her. "It seems Azera wants to make peace." He propped his feet on top of the desk and folded his hands in his lap. "Who was this supplier of yours?"

"A guy named Malcom Weyer. Ex military man, and..." Azera huffed as she crossed her arms. "...One of _my_ exes. Lucky for me the breakup was mutual. He made a better arms dealer than lover, honestly." She flicked a business card to the hunter, who caught it without a problem. "I already ransacked his store for what he had left. The exploding bullets were one of his rare products. Hard to come by. You find some and supply them to me, and every job in this town belongs to you."

Dante snorted. "Why give them up so easily?"

"I've got calls from my old hometown. The clients there are less frequent, but the pay's better." Azera re-holstered her pistol. "What do you say? Do we have a deal?"

Dante looked past her at Lady and motioned his chin for her to come over to him. The human huntress strolled over to him and leaned against the side of the desk. No words were exchanged between the two; their looks told the whole story. After a minute they laid their attention back on Azera. "We find your special ammo and you're gone."

"Fine by me." Azera waved to him and Lady and turned for the door. Three steps toward it she stopped and looked at Kyrie, examining the songstress from the floor up. "You're too innocent for our world," she suddenly whispered to the brunette, whose eyes widened. "Run while you can, sweetheart. Can't have that pretty little face of yours get scratched." Kyrie's hand tightened around Nero's, whose upper lip curled in annoyance at the bartender. Azera laid her eyes on him and smirked. "Another albino customer, I see," she mused before looking down at his right arm. "Nice arm. I'd love to see how you'd use it in bed." The young hybrid immediately blushed and averted his gaze. Pleased with his reaction, Azera continued her walk out the door and turned the corner to head to her bar.

Whatever tension lingered in the air began to dissipate. "Who was that?" Nero asked, breaking the silence in the room. Not even Gloria had ever ignited such a reaction in him. He took a deep breath and rubbed his temples, doing his best to forget his embarrassment. Nero was glad no one - especially not Dante - had pointed out his reddened cheeks.

Trish huffed. "That was Azera, the bartender at our local hot-spot. We liked her in the beginning, but then we found out she was stealing calls from us."

"She reeked of alcohol."

Dante shrugged his shoulders. "Wouldn't be the first time, kid." Suddenly remembering one of the reasons Nero had come, the elder hybrid motioned for Trish to come closer, and handed her the old textbook. "Almost forgot, Trish. Nero brought this from the Fortuna library. Said it had something to do with demonic abilities." Trish took the book from Dante's hands and made circles with her fingertips on the cover.

"Hmm..." Trish flipped the cover open and began to skim through the first pages, humming to herself as she got further into the text. "It looks like some kind of guide or manual. The first hundred pages seem to talk about the history of harnessing demonic power." The last three words of her sentence reminded Nero of Agnus. Trish continued to skip some pages, and when a few lines caught her eye she stopped. Her finger pointed to a sentence at the top of one of the center pages. "The 'Perfect Devil Trigger'..."

"That's the little bit I was able to read," Nero cut in. "That term pops up a lot in the middle and later chapters, and is mentioned a bit in the beginning. Unfortunately, the only one in Fortuna capable of reading demonic language fluently is dead. You think you can translate this for us?"

"Don't see why not." The blonde demon closed the book and tucked it under her arm. "Give me four days. I should have it all translated by then." Trish waved to her business partner and made her way to the staircase, and as she walked by Lady, she reached for the woman's face and caressed her cheek.

"I should be heading out, too," Lady said after Trish disappeared into her room. "I'm still kind of sore after my run-in with that succubus a few days ago." The huntress left the building, and moments later, Nero rushed over to Dante's desk.

"Did she say 'succubus'?" He and Kyrie shared a quick look before he turned back to Dante. "Dante, I got in a fight with a succubus last night! She recognized me as one of Sparda's descendants!"

Dante's attention was immediately drawn in at the mention of the succubus. He threw his feet down to the floor and sat up straight. "What'd she look like?"

Nero scratched his nose as he pieced together the memories from the night before. "Gray skin, white hair. Red eyes - she had one regular-sized pair and three or four smaller ones underneath... She had a sectioned tail with a stinger at the end, clawed arms that opened up like armor covering hands... She looked like some kind of weird giant scorpion."

The elder slayer cursed under his breath. "Yup, that's her. She's been parading around the city for about two weeks now." Dante got up from his chair and headed to the refrigerator. "Let me guess: she tried to lure you in with her aphrodisiac breath, stab you with her hair stingers, and eat your heart."

"Actually, she was chasing some woman down the block. I jumped down to stop her, and next thing I know her breath made me feel all weird. She almost got Kyrie, too..." Nero sat down on the couch, and when Dante offered him a beer he didn't refuse. Kyrie sat beside him and stroked his hair. Azera's warning to Kyrie was eerie, like she'd known about the attack somehow, and it creeped him out. "But as soon as I fought her off she backed down and ran away."

"Same thing happened with me the first time I saw her. I think she's serving under a higher power of some sort. I've been investigating the matter in my down time, but she's good at not leaving clues." Dante sat on the arm of the couch, looking down at the business card Azera had given him. "But it looks like we've got our first one right here."

* * *

Nero and Kyrie didn't stay much longer; as much as Dante's nephew wanted to stay and get to know his only family, he never intended to work during his vacation. The pair stayed at Dante's place a little longer, then parted ways with the demon slayer when dinner time rolled around. They promised to check in with him if the succubus showed herself again, and Dante promised the same in regards to Trish - who'd left after Kyrie and Nero - translating the demonic text. Once again he was alone in his office, with no work to tend to or demons to slay. The quiet bored him, but after all the craziness brought about by the succubus and finding out he had a nephew, he welcomed a little calm. It allowed him to catch up on the sleep he'd lost from all his hunting jobs, and it felt nice.

Things remained calm until around 2:30 in the morning. He was awakened by people arguing on the street - a guy arguing with his girlfriend, from what the voices yelled at each other. Dante covered his ears with the sides of his pillow. "So much for sleeping," he grumbled. The man's voice died down after a few minutes, leaving only the woman to voice her annoyance. As the arguing continued, a realization dawned on him that he recognized the woman's voice. "Oh, great..." Dante kicked off his blanket and rolled out of bed with reluctance, hoping it was just some lucid dream he could wake himself from. As he opened his window and poked his head out, ready to give the woman outside his own choice words, he saw her pinned to the ground by a group of reapers. One held down each of her limbs as she struggled against them, cursing at them and the man slowly approaching her. "Shit..."

"I thought I told you to never show your face in this town again, Scott!" Azera growled, seemingly ignoring the altered appearance of her ex-boyfriend. He no longer looked human: his sclera had gone black, his irises orange, and his skin was paler than that of a corpse. "Get a fucking grip on yourself!" She'd never admit she was begging for her life, but with the usually weak lesser demons somehow overpowering her, she'd resorted to reasoning to fight her way out of the mess. Azera's eyes searched the darkened environment for her pistol and sword, which she found laying just out of her reach. The former human raised his hand, and the two reapers restraining her arms used their free hands to swing their scythes down close to her neck. Azera closed her eyes at the moment of impact. Their blades, crossed over her neck, lay centimeters from her vital veins and inhibited her movement further. Azera groaned and watched the figure that was once human stop over her. He uttered an otherworldly growled as he knelt beside her and spoke to her in a demonic language.

As he prepared to strike, the former human suddenly froze and split in half lengthwise. The two halves sizzled when they hit the ground, and just as quickly the reapers were destroyed. Dante ripped their scythes out of the asphalt and threw them onto the street. "You just can't keep your distance, can you?" he asked the bartender as she sat up and rolled out her wrist. "First you're fighting off the boys, then the demons... You're something else." Out of courtesy he offered Azera his hand, and after a moment of staring at it she took it. Dante helped her stand and brushed dust from the reapers off her hair. "I guess you're the light those flies crave, huh?" Azera gave him a side glance and shrugged her shoulders, her eyes lingering on his topless form. "Well, you look about your wits tonight. What's the matter? Boss finally said you couldn't drink on the job anymore?"

Azera huffed and began to gather her weapons. "I had the situation under control."

"Right, about as much control as you had when they raided your bar. You want to tell me what the hell's going on?"

"I got them out," she barked at him, wiping the crud off her pistol. She felt Dante's stare on her and knew he wouldn't let it go this time. "Fine. What do you want to know?"

The demon slayer pointed to his shop window. "We'll talk inside." He motioned for her to follow him up the fire escape and through the window, and once settled in his room, he laid Rebellion against the wall. "Let's start from the beginning. Why have you been stealing my partners' jobs?"

Azera took a seat on his bed. She rolled her eyes as she looked around the room, not wanting to meet the waiting gaze from the man who saved her ass. "If you're expecting me to give you this whole sob story about demons ruining my life or me trying to get revenge, you'll be disappointed. I kill for the thrill; that's all there is to it."

"And you've suddenly found your conscience again because...?" Dante raised an eyebrow.

"Because your friend Lady snitched to Gus and he gave me a lecture." Azera sucked her teeth as she remembered her business partner's lecture during work the night before. "He said - and I quote - that I already had plenty of slaying calls out of town, and that 'stealing from others was wrong'. So I gave in to shut him up."

It was almost unbelievable to think that it only took Gus to sway the adamant bartender. It was comical, and made Dante laugh after a minute. "Wow. If it was that easy, I would've talked to him a while ago."

"Shut up." The bartender stood up and peeked out the window, searching for evidence of more demons lurking nearby. She looked down at Scott's body and watch it dissolve into a pile of dust. It was painful to see him as no more than the creatures she hunted. After finding the street quiet enough to her liking she opened it and stuck her leg onto the fire escape. "Well I should get out of here. Thanks for taking my ex out of the picture."

"He _was_ being rude. And I'm not a fan when it comes to poor treatment of women." He waved to the bartender and watched her disappear in the night, and as her presence left the building, Dante settled into bed again with a smirk. Things finally felt back to his 'normal'.

* * *

At the Crimson Flame the next night, Azera and Gus were hard at work serving their customers. The place was packed like it was many other nights, and the six employees had their hands full with serving everyone. Azera manned the bar as usual with her partner acting as backup. "Three more Scorpion's Kisses!" the female bartender yelled as she pushed the drinks across the counter. With the immense amount of people ordering food and drinks she barely noticed a snow-haired customer take up residence on an empty stool. Rushing back to the center of the bar, she half-glanced at the new customer as she restocked her alcohol. "What'll you have?"

"I'll have the special." His voice was colder than the tone from her other customers. Looking up from her work, Azera finally caught on to the reason behind the difference in his pitch. The person sitting across from her wore Dante's face and had his hair, but everything else about him was different from the demon slayer she knew. His eyebrows were drawn down in a tight scrunch, his mouth spread out in a flat line, and bags had collected under his eyes. His skin was pale - paler than Dante's, she noticed, and veins were visible all throughout his face. "No need for the mild one."

"Very well." Azera began to prepare a Scorpion's Kiss for the patron. "You're a new face around here. Visiting from out of town?" She passed the filled glass his way, and as her fingers left the rim, the stranger's hand fell on top of hers. Startled by his sudden action she raised an eyebrow.

"Just passing through," he replied. "I'm headed to Capulet on business." He brought the glass to his lips and downed its contents in one shot, his tongue snaking around the pepper to pull it inward. She heard the crunch of its outer shell when he bit down, and to the faintest amazement she did well to hide. The customer said nothing when he finished off the drink and set his glass down. Licking his lips, he handed Azera a bill to pay for the drink.

For once the bartender found herself close to speechless. Very few people were able to handle the burn of the pepper included with the beverage, and even that small percentage couldn't fight a tear or two falling from their eyes. For the moment she told herself he was a masochist and enjoyed the scorch the garnishment gave him, and put her thoughts aside for another time. "Capulet? That's quite the coincidence. I'm from there." He looked up at her for the first time that night, and the familiarity of Dante's face was confirmed when her eyes met his. It was scary, almost. Azera turned around to place the liquor bottle back in place, shaking the weird vibes she got from the stranger. "We never really get outsiders coming in for business."

"International business," he elaborated. "I'm preparing for a trade. Big merchandise exchanges between two corporations." She could feel the icy eyes watching her back, hanging on her like a leech. "And with all business, time is of the essence. I must take my leave." The stranger pulled another bill from his pocket and handed it to her. "Accept my thanks. You've a good collection of mixes here." Before she could respond, the customer got off his stool and departed, the cloak draped over him floating behind his form as he vanished into the crowd.

Azera crossed her arms, her peripheral vision keeping tabs on more approaching customers. The man disappeared from her sight completely and she returned her focus to serving the newcomers, barking out orders to her business partner and the kitchen staff. The night continued on as usual: flocks of new and regular customers flooding into the bar, making small talk with Gus, and overhearing the threads of an argument unravel into a potential fight. The people sitting at the bar moved their glasses mere moments before Azera hoisted her body over the counter and warned those in her way to step aside. Sighing, the bartender rubbed the back of her neck and leaned her head back. "I don't understand what makes you people think this is a good fight setting," she muttered, grabbing the feuding men by their lapels. "Alright, that's enough! You two are outta here." The drunken men could do little to fight Azera's yanking and were thrown out of the bar, hearing applause for the bartender before the door was slammed in their faces. The night drew into the wee hours of the morning, and once again the six workers closed up shop with grins and exhausted bodies. The others waved to their colleagues and headed to their cars, leaving Gus and Azera alone by the bar entrance.

"Nice job keeping the peace tonight," Gus commented to his partner. "No broken glass to clean up, and all my furniture stayed intact."

"You don't give me enough credit," Azera scoffed, giving Gus a light punch to the bicep. "I do my best to not break anything...or anyone."

"Last week was an exception, yes. But we still don't want incidents like that happening. That old lunatic down the block's just waiting to hear about someone's leg being broken so he can swoop in." Gus dug his car keys out of his pocket and clicked a button on the car remote, unlocking the vehicle. Azera climbed into the front passenger seat and buckled herself in as Gus took up the driver's side. The car started, and as she got comfortable in her chair, her phone started to buzz in her pocket. Sucking her teeth, she fished out her cellphone and glanced at the screen. Azera rolled her eyes and groaned, and when Gus gazed at the name on her screen, he let out his own huff of air. "You know he's only calling because he loves you."

The bartender blew hair out of her face with a hard shot of air. "That's what you always say. And when I answer him, it turns into a fucking lecture."

"Language, please." Azera sank further into her seat, holding the still-vibrating phone in her hand. "It could be different this time," Gus said to her, to which Azera raised her brows and huffed again. "Give him a chance. You won't have another person like him in your life, you know."

Gus always knew the right words to sway her, and she hated it. "You owe me if I'm right," she told him, and slid her finger across the screen to unlock the phone. Bringing it to her ear, the bartender sucked in a breath and closed her eyes. "You're up late."

"And hello to you, too," the voice on the other end replied. "Though what I really wanted to start with was why you haven't been answering any of my calls lately." And so it begins, Azera mouthed in silence, and Gus rolled his eyes at her. "We haven't heard from you in over two weeks. Carmen and the kids were beginning to wonder if you were still alive."

"Oh, they're concerned for my well-being. What a surprise." Gus cleared his throat as a reminder for his partner to remember her attitude, but she shooed away his silent commentary with her left hand. "Why are you calling me now, of all times? Shouldn't you be preparing for a meeting or some shit?"

The man on the other end was quiet for a second. "Azera, I'm being serious. We're all concerned that you're not checking in with us. I had to get a call from Gus that you passed out during one of your shifts the other night, and one of your customers had to practically carry you home. What the hell?" Azera turned to face her partner with wide eyes, who'd curled his lips in and had a bead of sweat rolling down the side of his face.

"Gus, what the fuck?"

Letting out a semi-nervous chuckle, Gus leaned his head close to her phone for a moment. "Hey, Noah."

"So he's got you babysitting for me now, too?" Azera scoffed and pulled her arms inward. "Stop the car." The bar owner was quick to oblige and pulled over to the sidewalk. Azera rested the phone against her ear again, her mouth drawn into a scowl. "While it's nice that you'd sacrifice sleep to lecture me on how I live my life, you should know by now that you're wasting your time. BOTH of you." She flashed Gus a glare. "Is Dad in on this too?" When she didn't receive an answer, she knew what his answer was. "Quit trying to play big brother. You blew your chance years ago." She hung up before Noah had any chance to respond, then unbuckled her seat belt and opened the door.

"We're almost at your house. You don't have t-"

"Go home before your husband starts worrying," Azera spat as she slammed the door. She turned away from the vehicle and marched down the street, turning down an alleyway so Gus couldn't follow her. Light bulbs from the street lamps overhead flickered on and off until finally dying, leaving the alley cast in darker shadows. Audible hisses filled the space and Azera's eyes darted around her in search of the source. With none around, she reached instinctively for her gun, and uttered an agitated whine when she found nothing but her own clothing in its wake. "Fuck my life," she said out loud to the sky, feeling the ground under her feet tremble. Concrete cracked apart and blue glowing tentacles seeped out, forming a circle around her body. They clasped shut quicker than human reflexes and squeezed tight, and a pair of ruby eyes glowered at the woman standing before it who'd escaped its grasp. "Great. Exactly what I need right now." It sank downward and reappeared beneath her feet once more, this time with no destruction of the ground. A tentacle wrapped around her ankle and snaked upward, reaching her thigh before the bartender pressed her heel into where the appendage connected to the main body and twisted, ripping the tentacle off. A shriek erupted from its mouth, located at the top of its head, and the demon began to dissolve in the puddle of innards that poured out from the hole in its body. Azera shook the tentacle off her leg and watched dirt from the ground mix with the shadows and blend together with red portals rising from the ground. Brightly colored creatures, their faces covered in poorly sewn sacks, bore blades on one limb each, and swayed in their movement and laughter as they approached Azera. "More punching bags to rip apart," she told herself, and tightened her hands into fists. She counted the demons surrounding her in her head, and when her eyes flashed to the ninth one, she caught a glimpse of a white crop of hair in her peripheral vision, far off in the scarecrow's background.

His hands folded behind his back, Vergil took a step closer to the alleyway. "A shame you left the safety of the car," he began, "but perhaps for the better. I don't have time to waste on outsiders." He motioned his hand for the scarecrows to pounce, and continued his saunter while watching the battle before him. The arm-bladed demons struck first, throwing the weight of their upper metal limbs down to knock Azera to the floor. She knocked the first aside, the end cutting into her forearm; the second was evaded with a spin to her right; and when the third and fourth came close to her, the bartender leaned far back until her head was touching the ground. Her legs split apart and she folded her knees around the demons' arms, forcing their blades into each other. She used one of them to cut off the blade from the other and used the severed arm as a handle. The makeshift scythe parried an oncoming upward slash from a fifth demon and sent it into a dumpster, and the creature impaled itself on a broken section of pipe sticking out of the corner. Azera stepped on another demons' foot and held it in place, leaning out of the way of its approaching bladed arm. The blade hit the concrete right next to her ear and kicked up debris, chopping off some strand of her hair. Her leg raised and she planted her heel into its face, knocking its head off its body. A leg-bladed scarecrow sliced through the decapitated remains and lurched forward to try and pin Azera to the ground, but was split in half when she found her footing again and used her spinning momentum to swing the scythe. Distracted by the horde of scarecrows, she didn't register the growing pain stemming from her chest, nor did she notice the white and silver glow surrounding Vergil's arms and legs. She finally caught sight of the glimmer when it bounced off the blade of her scythe. It distracted her for a second too long, allowing one of the surviving scarecrow demons to lunge forward and try to slice her head off. She jumped away with little time to spare and landed in the middle of the next street, her tongue poking out to lap at the blood dripping from the fresh cut across the right half of her face. "Your reflexes are astounding, Azera."

"I had a hunch there was something off about you," she commented, and punctured through asphalt when she stuck the blade of her scythe into the road. She kept an eye on the armor over his hands and feet, noting to herself to be careful when dealing with him. The remaining scarecrow demons joined him when he made it through the alleyway and formed a semicircle around Azera. Vergil flexed his hands underneath the gauntlets and took another step toward her. One scarecrow from each side cartwheeled in her direction, picking up speed in their rotation, and rolled in a circle around her. Azera pulled her scythe inward and parried several strikes from them, the handle snapping in two when it couldn't take anymore damage. She ducked under the scarecrow aiming for her throat and threw her blade upward, skewering the demon and fixing it to a nearby roof. She caught the other demon with her bare hands, the blade slicing into the skin of her palms and the padding of her thumbs. "The hell do you want?" she asked as she pushed against the scarecrow, until she decided to throw it over her head and into a lamp post. The post snapped like a twig and fell on top of the demon, squishing it flat. Having torn off its leg blade, Azera barely had a moment to turn the blade in her hand and adjust her grip before Vergil sprang forward with his fist aimed at her face. Azera leaned out of his way, only to find his greave swinging backward and planting in her ribs. She flew across the street and into a window, the jagged shards ripping red lines into her body. The writhing in her chest pulsed harder than before, shaking her arms when she pushed herself up. Glass bits caught in her palms when she staggered, and she coughed up blood. "Okay, now I'm pissed," she hissed between pants.

Vergil waited for Azera to crawl out from the building. The scarecrows weren't as patient and lurched right into the opening. Two flew out immediately and exploded into dust and bugs, and parts of a third were tossed out the window like trash. Her head and upper body poked out, and the rest eventually followed her into the street. A long piece of glass was stuck in her shoulder, and through her right leg was a scarecrow's blade, with the scarecrow still attached. The demon was dragged as she walked forward, watching Vergil stay in place with his arms crossed. "Playing the silent type now, I see. I don't get you white-haired freaks. One's summoning demons, the other's fighting them..." Azera took a second to catch her breath, wincing from the bruise she knew Vergil gave her near her ribs, observing the subtle twitch in the man's lower eyelids. "And the young one brought his little girlfriend into an infested town." The snow-haired man took a step closer to her. "Are there any more of you out here that I should know of? Because if there are-"

She couldn't finish her sentence. Vergil launched himself forward and grabbed Azera by the head, slamming her into the asphalt. His foot pressed hard on her chest to hold her in place, squeezing air out of her body and cracking a rib. "Where are they?" he demanded, ignoring the few scarecrows left that came closer. When one ventured too close for comfort, he seized its bladed arm and tore it off, then pressed the edge on the bridge of her nose. Azera bore her teeth at him and wrapped her legs around his ankle, pulling him down when she rolled to the side. The blade in his grip fell loose and sliced her shirt open, revealing bruising along her sternum. In her struggle to subdue him, Vergil noticed blackened veins stemming from the left side of her chest under the tattered shirt and bra. His free leg caught between her arms and swiftly spread to loosen her grip, then he jumped up and slammed his fist into her cheek. Azera rolled backwards and skid to a stop, falling to her knees when she held her torso. More blood was coughed out, and along with it, small clumps of black. Vergil walked up to her and brushed dirt off his lapel. "I see you've reached your limit. You lasted longer than expected." He used his foot to usher her face upward to look directly at him. "Tell Dante and that child I'm back for what's mine. And I'm not just talking about the sword." Azera cocked up an eyebrow when he lowered his foot and started to walk away, punching a hole through the last scarecrow and vanishing into a red and black portal that opened on the side of the closest building.

The pain subsiding, Azera wiped the blood dripping from her nose and stood up. She looked around to see if anyone had noticed their fight, and when she found no witnesses, a sigh left her lips. "I hate family drama," she mumbled while turning her hands palm-up, and began the annoying task of picking the glass out before her flesh healed with it still inside.


	9. Chapter 9

The last time Dante set foot in Capulet City, he was only passing through to get to Mallet Island. He didn't stick around to visit any sights, nor did he pay the citizens any mind. What he knew of the city only came from what he read in newspapers or on the internet, and everything described the bustling city as an average town; if there was any demonic activity going on, its presence was much more underground than in Elanay. Lady had the most info on it out of the trio, and even she said there wasn't enough activity to draw attention from outsourced demon hunters. Dante began to wonder if Azera was telling the truth about her promise; the skyscrapers he drove past told of large corporations and businessmen with very little time on their hands, not a town in need of protection from otherworldly creatures. Nero was just as curious of the matter, and an unreadable hunch told the both of them it had something to do with the succubus popping up in Elenay in the last two weeks, so he brought the kid along for the day trip. Trish and Lady promised to keep Kyrie occupied, the former even volunteering to give her a quick lesson in combat, but both she and Nero turned down the offer. Packing Red Queen in the trunk with Dante's arsenal, Nero rode in the passenger seat the entire way into Capulet City, momentarily mesmerized by the modern designs of the buildings.

"Sorry, kid," Dante suddenly said, breaking the youth's trance. "We're not here to go sight-seeing. It'll have to wait for another time." The car halted at a stoplight.

Nero sucked his teeth. "Like I don't know that. Unlike you, I'm actually looking at the signs. Maybe this guy's business was advertised on a billboard, or on the side of some building."

Dante shrugged his shoulders. "A: the driver has to watch the road. B: it's highly unlikely you'll find an open ad for an arms dealer in these parts." He pointed to the drones of people walking the streets. "If you haven't noticed yet, these people aren't the same as the ones back in Elanay. They're so consumed by their stocks gaining value that they probably don't know demons exist." The light changed to green and Dante continued to drive. "It's strange this guy would be located here in the first place."

"Don't you operate underground too?" Nero mentioned with a gesture of his hand.

"That's different. My services are suitable for where I live, where as this Malcom guy's arms dealership doesn't fit well with the environment..." The elder demon hunter's eyes squinted as he looked left and right. "...Speaking of which, what's the address to this place?"

Nero grunted in annoyance. "Don't tell me you don't have GPS in this clunky old thing."

"Who needs GPS when the location's appearance screams 'haunted by demons'?"

A second grunt escaped the youth. "You're hopeless. Here." He fished out his cellphone and the business card, and started typing in the address on his GPS app. "It's six miles west, in the outskirts of the suburbs." He scrolled past the directions to a picture of the estate. "Looks like some kind of farm house."

A smirk came across Dante's face. "And there's the cover." He turned the steering wheel left and drifted into the turning lane, cutting off a car and ignoring the choice words the driver had for him. They turned down the block and found a path out of the main city, following the long road into a more suburban area. Gradually, the crowd of buildings reduced to rows of homes, and past that, open land occupied by few structures. Nero kept an eye out for anything remotely similar to the building in the picture he'd found, and when the sun was highest in the sky, they spotted it. Dante pulled over into the grass and turned off the car, shoving the keys into his pocket. Nero was at the trunk first, unloading their swords and checking his stock of bullets.

"What do you think we'll find in there?" he asked.

Dante shrugged again. "Who knows. The only thing I'm sure about is a dead body." Nero almost forgot what Azera had said about the arms dealer, and based on his first impression of her, he didn't take her as the type to give the dead a respectable burial. "But it's best to be ready for anything that might pop out of the ground."

He couldn't argue with that logic. Nero uttered a hum in response and loaded bullets into his revolver. He packed what he could carry in a holster pocket on his belt, then sheathed Red Queen on his back. Dante was already ahead of him, keeping Ebony in hand during his approach to the barn. The countryside was quiet, as he'd expected, but the occasional breeze floating by didn't hold the same silence that normal farm grounds would. He didn't know what made him more uneasy: the barn door flapping back and forth, beating on the structure; or the unmistakable stench of old blood moving in the wind. Within minutes he was at the barn, throwing the door open and spotting a bloody trail on the wooden floor. Bullets followed the path around a large metal table at the center of the room, where the trail stopped. Nero walked in behind Dante, holding his nose. "Geez. How long ago did she say he was killed?"

"Few days. Probably a week. Definitely smells older than that." Dante tread slowly to the other side of the table, looking around as he neared the end. Produce was scattered everywhere, many of the vegetables either sliced into pieces or squished beyond recognition. "Well he certainly had the store front cover going strong." His eyes followed the blood trail again, his eyebrow arching when he reached the end at the metal table. It seemed to run below the structure, well past where it lay on the ground. "Hmm..." The elder slayer raised his foot with hesitance tapped the toe of his boot on the side of the table. The metal wall echoed when he kicked it, the echo rattling through the entire structure. Dante scoffed under his breath and leaned forward, resting both hands on the metal table, then gave it one big push. The table slid across the ground, and when it was halfway past its original position, a hole in the floor was revealed. Nero's eyes followed the table as it rolled to a stop, and his sight shifted to the passageway. Stairs descended into the hole, its walls lined with the same metal. "Aha. We've found our bunker." 

The younger man whistled. "Didn't think the guy would take 'underground business' literally," he mused, and stomped forward one step before throwing his hand over the lower half of his face. "Yup. He's definitely down there." He marched down the stairs ahead of Dante, resting his right hand on the wall to feel his way down and search for a light switch. He found one at the bottom of the landing and flicked it up, turning on a row of lamps hanging from the ceiling that flickered with each swing from right to left. When the lights hung still, all six highlighted a lumpy mass slightly off to the left of the center of the room. A body lay splayed out between the work table and a cabinet, its limbs mangled and twisted in ways they couldn't naturally bend. Only half the face remained, though it was barely recognizable, save the hair and bony shapes sticking out from the skin. A collection of jagged, spear-shaped objects stuck out from various points in the torso and structured half of the face, spines protruding from each one. "...I guess that's him."

Dante sneered at the sight of the body. "Sheesh. She could've at least warned us," he complained. "'This is a bit more than 'dead'." The demon slayer took a step toward the corpse and knelt beside it. He unsheathed Ivory and tapped one of the spears. A dark purple liquid oozed down its thorny side and dripped onto the remains of Malcom's face, and the flesh began to corrode before Dante's eyes. "Definitely a poison-type. We'll want to stay away from these."

"Dante." The elder man turned at the sound of Nero's voice and spotted him kneeling on the other side of the room. White strands hung from his open palm, clumped in matted yarn-like collections, and reached the floor from between his fingers two feet up. "She was here." He stood up and handed the hair to Dante, who rolled it between his fingers. He didn't need to lift the hair to his nose to smell ginseng and blood swirling together through his nostrils, and when the scent hit Dante, the memory of his encounter with her flooded back. The succubus' locks were lifeless in his hand, completely different from those that slithered and tried to subdue him the night he first saw her.

The elder man dropped the hair from his grasp, shaking off any that landed on his boot. He sauntered around the small table and over Malcom's body, sniffing the air. "He made her bullets with phosphorus," Dante said out loud. "That much I can tell. Check the cabinets for any sort of chemical recipe."

"You must really hate her guts if you're willing to go this far to be rid of her." Nero started the search in the upper cabinet nearest him, only finding an empty ammunition box.

"Tch. You don't know the half of it." Dante tossed an empty plastic bin aside and shuffled through a pile of papers. "Too bad this won't get rid of her forever."

Nero ceased his search through one of the lower cabinets and let the door swing shut. "Wait...you're seriously considering becoming her seller? After what you told me?" A second of silence passed before the younger hybrid started to laugh to himself.

"What?"

"You're whipped." Before Dante had a chance to protest Nero explained himself. "You're bending to her will, Dante. She got away with stealing your clients, and now that she's been exposed, you're continuing to cater to her whims. Sure, she's gonna pay you for making the same bullets, but she's still in your life. You won't be able to get rid of her like this."

Dante uttered an annoyed grunt. "As much as your advice is appreciated, kid, I suggest keeping your mouth shut unless you've devised a permanent solution." Nero shrugged and returned to filing through every drawer in his vicinity. His fingers combed through the rows of papers in one drawer, finding nothing of use to them, and then he jumped to the table at the center of the room.

His elder turned on heel and moved his own search to the cabinets on the other side of the room. His patience was beginning to wear thin with every passing minute and no results. As hope dwindled, he spotted an answering machine from the corner of his eye, its red lights blinking on and off. "About damn time something turned up..." Dante flicked one of the glowing switches and heard a tape inside roll backwards. A smug grin worked onto the left half of his face, both surprised and amused that underground arms dealers still stuck to old-school methods in the age of technology. He returned to his search when the tape finished rewinding.

"Malcom, it's me." Both men paused at the sound of Azera's voice, each glancing at the answering machine when they resumed their tasks. Her voice lacked the chipper sarcasm Dante knew her to have, and as her voice went on, he recognized the same gurgling he'd heard from her throat the night she passed out in his arms. "Listen. I'm not coming to pick up my supply this week. I know, totally out of character for me. But it's for the better..." Her breath hitched. "Maybe leave it by the door when you lock up for the night? You just can't be there when I am. Okay? I'll leave the cash in your mailbox, same as last week. Sorry for putting you in a rough spot all of a sudden." A clicking sound ended the voicemail, and Nero and Dante exchanged glances, the elder parting his lips to say something.

"Malcom. Malcom Weyer." A man's voice took over the next message. "You son of a bitch, you'd better answer. And you know exactly who it is." Nero shrugged when Dante's stare lingered for more than a comfortable few seconds. "I thought I warned you to stay away from Azera - MULTIPLE times. There's things you don't know that can get you killed! So get your head and that little crush out of your ass before something bad happens, got it? I don't want to find your name in her recent calls next time I check - or so help me, I WILL remind you in person. Got it?" The line abruptly died and the rest of the tape played nothing but silence, signaling the end of the missed calls.

Dante rolled his eyes. "Don't tell me I've got another ex-boyfriend to deal with. I already had to kick one's ass, one's dead on the floor next to me..." In a bout of frustration, he swiped all the papers he'd been looking through off the counter and clasped the edge tight in his hands. He huffed angrily through his nose, but when his eyes shifted to the last sheet that remained, vexation made way for relief. Dante picked up an oak tag paper, its edges charred and the remaining surface covered in dirty fingerprints. His eyes skimmed over the first two paragraphs and he sighed. "Finally!"

"You got it?" Nero asked, hopping over the body to join Dante. He took it in his human hand and read over the instructions, mumbling some of the words to himself. "So this guy actually found a way to craft exploding bullets without them bursting in the chamber. I see why she wants them so badly-" Nero's attention was drawn upstairs and he froze with his hand reaching for Red Queen's handle when he heard a sound echo. He nodded to Dante and ascended the stairs, swinging his sword at whatever sound he'd heard. A bullet whirred past his ear and Nero swapped his blade for his revolver. He and the responsible party aimed their firearms at each other, neither moving an inch or dropping their guard. "Who are you?" Nero demanded.

Dante made his way up the stairs and caught sight of the confrontation. The stranger eyed him from his peripheral vision and growled, then reluctantly reholstered his gun. He held his hands up in surrender. "Look, I didn't come here for a fight. I just came for Malcom Weyer. You know where I can find him?"

"What for?" Dante inquired. The stranger lowered his hands and rolled out his neck.

"I've got personal business to discuss with him." His voice sounded similar to the second voicemail. Dante ushered Nero's revolver down, bringing relief over the stranger standing before them. He shoved his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket and shifted his weight from one side to the other. "Look," he continued, "if I'd known Malcom was gonna hire some muscle, I wouldn't have charged in here armed. But he's been ignoring my calls, and I had no choice."

"You leave him an angry voicemail a couple of days ago?" Dante asked, to which the stranger nodded. He sighed and scratched the back of his neck. "Well I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but Malcom's been reduced to a half-eaten corpse." The stranger's jaw dropped, and Dante decided not to mince words with the man. "Looks like a demon got to him long before we did. There's evidence of a fight downstairs."

The man clutched a nearby tabletop. "So she finally got to him..."

"She WHO?"

"The succubus!" Dante's jaw tightened. "She calls herself Calvaro. I've been trying to track her movements for some time now, but she keeps escaping through a hell portal at the last second. Last time I saw her was two weeks ago." The stranger's eyes darted around the room, finding evidence of evaporated demon corpses on the floor and walls. "We're not safe here. We have to leave now!" He turned on heel and stormed out of the barn, pushing the old wooden door out of his way.

Nero hurried after him. "Hey, wait!" He grabbed the man's wrist and pulled him inward, forcing him to spin around. Dante, not far behind, saw the same piercing green eyes and black hair in him that he'd seen countless times in the bartender over the past two weeks. He marched up to the man as Nero let him go.

"...You're Azera's brother."

His eyes flickered from one hunter to the other. "Yeah, name's Noah. How do you know my sister?"

"Hate to break it to you, Noah," Dante began, "but your sister's a nutcase. She's either super drunk or mouthing off while demons chase her around. Kinda makes me wish I never walked into her bar in the first place." The demon slayer waved his hand in the air. "But let's get back to this succubus for a second, because you seem to know more than either of us. Where'd she come from?"

Noah rolled out his shoulders and leaned against the barn wall, crossing his arms. "She's evolving. Every time I catch up to her, there's something different about her appearance. She didn't have claws a few weeks ago." He suddenly threw his hands up in the air. "And then she vanishes through another portal before I can corner her."

Nero joined him on the wall. "Well she's got a tail, too. And it almost ran me through the asphalt a couple of nights ago." He finally sheathed his revolver and approached Noah. "Her evolution isn't normal. If she's changing as fast as you say she is, there's definitely another factor pulling the strings here. We have to act fast." He offered his hand to the man and engaged in a proper introduction. "I'm Nero, by the way, and that's Dante."

"Pleasure." Noah reached for a stool by the center table and pulled it under himself, his right foot resting on the lower ring as he hunched forward and knitted his hands together. "How's Azera been? You two seem to know more about her life in the last few weeks than she'll let me." He ran a hand through his hair before joining them again. "She and I have...issues, to say the least so she's not really keen on keeping me informed with what's going on. Gus is my only way to stay in the know. Siblings, right?" he stated with a flat chuckle.

Dante laughed along with him in a similar manner. "Yeah, my brother's not exactly the 'involved' type, either. As far as your sister goes, I think she's got a severe alcohol problem. I'm sure Gus told you about her passing out in my arms? She was coughing up this black, murky crap that looked like blood clots. I've seen drunk people spew their stomach contents on the floor, but her case actually looks dangerous."

"Oh no..." Noah leaped off of the stool and stumbled forward. "Do you know where she is right now?" He waited only a second for them to answer before bolting out of the barn and rounding the building to his car. He knew the Spardas were close behind him and didn't bother checking over his shoulder or shooing them away, instead continuing from where he left off. "I have a personal vendetta against Calvaro. She's haunted my family for a while, and last year, she poisoned Azera. I'm sure she's back to finish the job." Noah stopped when he extended a hand to open the driver's side door of his car, and turned around to lean his back on it. "We all know she's impulsive. She thought she could take the demon out by herself one night. My instincts told me to follow her, and when I found her, she almost wasn't there anymore. I don't know how she survived the attack - or having this poison in her system for so long - but it looks like she's struggling to fight for survival."

"You gonna kill the succubus?" Dante asked.

Noah shook his head. "Can't do that, not until I extract her venom and have an antidote created."

"Wait, is that even-"

"Dante," the elder slayer's nephew interrupted him, and beckoned for the older man to follow him a few steps away from Noah. Narrowing his gaze, he backed away from Azera's brother and joined Nero beside the barn again. "I know, it sounds crazy-"

"Because it _is_ ," Dante whispered back. "Antidotes for demon venom don't exist in the human world. His only chance of creating one is by gathering ingredients on the other side." He gave Noah a brief glance from over his shoulder. "But look at him. He doesn't look like the hunting type. He'll just get himself killed."

Nero fished his cellphone from his pocket and scrolled through his photographs. "I've seen what that venom can do, though, and she shouldn't have survived more than a half hour if what he says is true. It's like pure acid; it'll eat her alive. He's probably got a source of weaker antidotes to keep her in one piece until he can conjure the real thing." He stopped on a particular picture and held the phone's screen near Dante's face. "There was a small section in one of the chapters in that book on demon venom and how to combat it. If Agnus was experimenting on venomous demons before he turned himself and the Order, he'd need an antidote to ensure his survival until that time came." Dante skimmed a few of the words on the picture before Nero retracted the phone and shoved it back into his pocket.

"Please." Their attention was drawn back to Noah when they heard his plea. "She's my only sibling. I can't lose her. I need your help in keeping her safe.

"And how would you expect us to do that?" Nero inquired. "You're her brother."

Noah swept a hand through his hair. "And you're the only ones she'll seem to listen to. Please, all I ask is that you help me track this succubus. I just need a few drops of her venom and blood; after that, you can do what you please."

Dante grit his teeth. He despised his sympathizing nature, and it struck him deeper whenever a plea came from someone wanting to protect their family. Nero was right about him being a sucker to an extent, but he was going to get something out of watching Azera, he told himself. "I don't play the bodyguard role for free. If tracking this succubus down means babysitting Azera, it'll cost you."

"Of course. I'll pay whatever it takes." Noah's phone vibrated in his pocket and he was quick to glance at the text on the screen when he drew it out. "We'll have to draw up a contract another time. I'm needed elsewhere." He pulled a business card from his jacket and handed it to Dante with a handshake, then opened his car door and stepped in. "Let me know if Azera stirs up any trouble." The Spardas watched him drive off the grass and down the barren highway, and neither man blinked until his car was long gone.

"You were right," Nero began after a minute of silence. "The card was our first clue."

"But we're still left with no answers. And I doubt we'll be getting any until we find the succubus again." He stared down at Noah's card and flipped it between his fingers, reading 'Attorney at Law' on the glossy side, and let out a long whistle. "Shit...we're gonna be busy for a while."


	10. Chapter 10

Dante knew he'd have to go back to the Crimson Flame sooner or later to deliver the news to Azera - and once he took care of that, confront her about the succubus that tainted her blood. He'd seen what demons did to regular people, though seeing one who'd lived with venom from one for so long was a rarity; the results were bad either way. To think she'd survived the corrosive venom seeping through her veins for so long thanks to Noah's efforts was eerie. She was virtually a walking corpse, in his mind, and the poisoning seemed to explain all of the things Dante witnessed: the black, murky vomit stains in the corners of her mouth the night he carried her home; the pains that rang through her chest; the weird collection of purple veins that ran across her face and down her neck. Hell, he was even willing to believe the venom was responsible for her excessive alcohol consumption and complete disregard for self-safety. He had to give Noah props for putting up with her for so long. And speaking of the siblings, he knew he'd be stuck with them for a while. Noah's business card screamed money, money he seemed more than willing to splurge on a cure for his sister. Good for the business, bad for his mental health. Dante couldn't wait to tell the girls about it all.

Before stopping at Devil May Cry, he had to inform Azera on their find. Nero would tag along since he was already in the car, though neither of them wanted to set foot near the bartender, especially if she were as piss drunk as they feared. "You're making a big mistake," the parrot known as Nero complained in the front passenger seat. "It's starting to play out a lot like that little girl you told me about. What was her name...Sandy?"

"Patty," Dante corrected him on the highway out of Capulet City. "But at least she had an excuse to be a brat. She was a child. Azera's a grown woman, an at least I know a scolding from her business partner will shut her up for a while." He rolled his shoulders and merged into the left lane when it cleared. "Yeah, she's fucking annoying, but at least I can look forward to taking her money instead of it going the other way around."

"And what about the succubus?"

He'd been thinking about that since they left the barn. A heavy sigh slid through the space between his teeth as he grimaced. "Unfortunately, finding the bitch involves hanging around Azera. I'll have to hang around the bar until she shows up to finish what she started." His eyes narrowed momentarily. "And just maybe, we can figure out where she came from so we don't get another Calvaro." His cellphone rang in his pocket, and as he reached for it, Nero swatted his hand away and answered it for him.

"Hello." The younger hunter fell silent listening to the voice on the other end of the line. "No, he's driving right now. Want to leave him a message?" The voice raised in volume, allowing Dante to hear Lady's exasperated groans and the complaints that followed, and he snickered to himself. Her whining ceased and she continued her conversation with Nero. They spoke for a while longer, and after a few minutes, Nero hung up and laid the phone on the car's dashboard. "She says hi, that you owe her 5 G's, and she may have found a new bar to call home. Not as lively as the Crimson Flame, but it's got a good crowd. It's called 'The Black Panther'."

Dante hummed to himself. "Sounds like a relaxing, drunken bartender-free place. I'll have to check it out soon."

Nero nodded. "But first, she says you have to get rid of Azera." And there went the elder's happy glimpse of the future. He had no idea how long the 'problem' would take to resolve, or if he'd even get the chance to fix it before the bartender croaked from the poison. Demon venom was tricky to predict if the victim managed to survive past the first few days, and she'd gone a year. He needed more information.

By the time they got back to Devil May Cry the sun was lowering in the sky, which meant the Flame was open for business and probably booming. Dante parked beside his building and cut the engine, then sat in silence for a good minute before stepping out. He fished Malcom's index card from his pocket and skimmed over the words one last time before going inside to drop it off. Nero waited for him outside, arms crossed as he sat on the car's hood. "Do I really have to go in there with you?" Nero inquired.

"Don't you start whining, too," Dante warned, "or else I'll leave you alone with Azera. You don't know what she can do in just three minutes." Nero shuddered at the thought, still embarrassed over his first meeting with her. He'd fought hard to keep Kyrie from seeing the blush that spread across his cheeks when Azera mentioned taking him to bed, but the flush left him when he recalled what the bartender told his girlfriend shortly before leaving the estate. She seemed to know that Kyrie was an outsider to the slaying world versus the others, and he couldn't pinpoint how she could've thought so. It could've been her clothes, he assumed. Kyrie dressed the most 'normal' in societal terms compared to the people she hung around with. Leather and hard, dark colors were absent from her wardrobe, and though she didn't dress as conservatively as she once had, there wasn't anything about her attire that was edgy. Then again, it could've been her face. Nero learned how to read people from a young age as a means of defending himself from children who liked picking on him, and something as simple as Kyrie's eyes for just a second could've told Azera she didn't belong in the shadowed world. Her warning still irked him all the same, and the look she'd given him afterward, mere seconds before cracking her sly sexual commentary, was a second warning in itself. "It'll only be for a couple of minutes," Dante continued, breaking Nero's train of thought. "You're free to go afterward."

The thought lingered in Nero's mind the rest of the way to the Crimson Flame. They strolled past the ever-growing line of eager patrons waiting for their turn to get inside and stopped at the front door. Dante nodded to the doorman and gestured to Nero behind him, saying, "He's with me." The attendant nodded and stepped aside to let them in. Nero raised an eyebrow, switching glances between Dante and the attendant, until his elder leaned closer to explain when the music suddenly got loud. "I have a reputation here."

"I see that." And Dante hadn't been kidding when he warned Nero about the Crimson Flame's bright lights against the darkened interior. Combined with the already full dance floor, growing crowd at the bar, and two new wait staff members Dante noticed, the younger of the two was beginning to get a little claustrophobic. Crowds weren't his thing, especially when random girls attempted to grind against his behind when he squeezed by. He turned down a drink offered by a stranger who seemed to recognize Dante and hand his senior a beer. "Is she here?"

Dante pointed to the bar area and motioned his head to press forward. "You get used to it," he told his nephew in reference to the lack of personal space. They squirmed past groups dancing until they managed to find space through the crowd to the front of the bar, and grabbed two unoccupied stools as fast as they could. Azera and Gus were none the wiser to their presence, serving drinks and passing food trays to those who ordered from the kitchen. The latter was the first to spot them and greeted Dante with a handshake.

Laying eyes on Nero, Gus' grin grew wider. "Your son?"

"Nephew." Dante slapped the back of Nero's shoulder.

"No kidding. He's your spitting image." He shifted over to Nero and rested his arm atop the bar counter. "Anything I can get you tonight, son?"

'Son'. The term made his eyes twitch in annoyance, but for the moment, he'd let it go. "Just a soda," he requested, and Gus quickly pulled a clean glass for him to fill.

"We need to borrow your partner for a minute," Dante said over the music while pointing to the still oblivious Azera at the opposite end of the counter.

Gus handed Nero his drink and held a finger up, then rushed to the other end and whispered something in Azera's ear. Her attention finally fell on them and her head tilted curiously before she nodded and handed a drink to a customer. She collected their money and rang them up, then wiped her hands on a dish towel and slid behind Gus to get free from the bar area. She motioned her head for them to follow her, snaking their way back through the crowd and out of the establishment. Out under the street lights and away from the line of waiting patrons, the men smelled the air and were shocked to find her breath reeking a lot less like alcohol than they were expecting. "What can I do you for?" she asked, resting her hands on her hips.

"Good to not smell so much alcohol on you for once." Dante pulled the index card from his pocket again and handed it to her. "We were successful in retrieving your dead boyfriend's bullet recipe," he began. "We also found your dead boyfriend. Care to explain why you just left him there?"

Azera played with her hair between her fingers. "When I found him, his body was already disintegrating from the acid. I had to rush back here to open the bar. I thought the acid would finish the job," she said with a shrug, and handed the card back to Dante. "How long do you think the first batch will take?"

"Ah ah ah!" Dante wagged a finger at her after collecting the card. "I believe I deserve a little payment for getting this in the first place. I'm charging you up the ass for this little retrieval." Azera sighed and rolled her eyes as she pulled a money clip from her pocket and put some twenties into Dante's hand. "Now that the processing fee's been taken care of, I'll need a few days to fool around with this recipe. It's much more delicate than what I'm used to."

"Fine by me. Anything else I can help you with tonight?"

Nero dug in his own pocket and pulled out a clump of long white hair, the hair he and Dante discovered in Malcom's basement lab. "Do you recognize this?" he asked her. Her nonchalant smile dropped when she laid her eyes on the hair hanging between his fingers, and her arms immediately curled around her torso while she turned her head away. Through her bangs, Nero saw dark red and purple lines attached to the corner of her left eye stretching down her cheek. One of the lines pulsed and grew darker in color. "When we were at the barn, your brother charged in ready to kill this Malcom guy. He told us about your poisoning."

Her head shot up. "He what?" A groan sounded from her throat. "Motherfucker... He doesn't know how to keep his mouth shut." Azera rested her back on the building. "So what now, are you two gonna babysit me until you find your demon?"

Dante stepped forward. "If that's what it takes, yes. Demon antivenom is damn near impossible to come by in the human realm. He wants to catch the succubus to do that, and hanging around you seems to be the only way to catch her." His eyes darted to Nero, and after a minute of silent conversation between the two, he nodded and began to walk away from the bar, back to Devil May Cry. Azera watched him leave without any comments, then shifted her focus back on Dante.

"So you'll be hanging around me for a while, huh?" She stepped closer to Dante and stared up at him. "Looks like we'll be spending some time together-"

"Don't get the wrong idea," he interrupted her. "This isn't an excuse for you to make a move on me."

"Aww, why not? I can feel your interest piquing whenever you're close to me. And every time we kiss, something more is coursing through you." Azera pressed her body against Dante's, and when he backed away, she cornered him on the wall, boxing him in with her arms. "I can see it in your eyes. You're usually the one in this position, so finding yourself to be the prey is unsettling. Is it not?" After a second she backed off and stepped aside. "I'll play your little game for now, but when you're ready to take charge, I'll be waiting." Azera turned around and headed back to the bar, and didn't give a last glance to Dante's surprise.

He drew in a deep breath and groaned before starting the walk home, shaking out the creeps Azera gave him. She was persistent, he had to admit, and it was beginning to grow on him. He started to remember what initially attracted him to her the first night they met. And now that he was in the loop with everything regarding her strange mannerisms, a small part of him could see past all of them. The rational portion of Dante's mind shook out the thoughts as he neared his home, reminding himself of the situation he'd be trapped in until he caught the succubus.

Inside the Crimson Flame, Azera returned to her job swiftly. She tended to the throng of eager customers, handing them drinks and meals while handling the register as Gus took a break to check on those still waiting to enter the establishment. When things calmed for a minute she poured herself a glass of water and wiped her forehead on a separate dish towel, then began to fan herself with her hands when the water didn't help cool her off. It'd never been hot inside to her, even after months of working at the Flame under the bright flashing lights. Gus was quick to notice his partner leaning a cloth full of ice on the back of her neck, and rushed over to her. "You need a minute?" he asked while laying a hand on her forehead. "Geez, you're burning up." Gus checked the bar to make sure no one was paying attention before swiping her bangs away from her face, and saw how far her darkened veins had spread out from her eye. "...I think we should call your brother."

Azera pushed his hand away. "Not that again. I'm fine, Gus, I'm just having a little hot flash." She switched hands with the makeshift ice pack and laid it on her clavicle. "Please don't play babysitter today. That's the last thing I need right now." She leaned against the inside of the counter and sighed. "Apparently Dante and Noah met, and they've teamed up to keep an eye on me like some lost child. So for once, I need you to just leave me be and focus on work. Okay?" The stress was mounting on her, he could tell, and Gus nodded to give Azera some sense of relief. "Thank you." More people approached the counter, and Azera turned her attention to serving them. She took the orders and filled their glasses with Scorpion's Kisses, then tapped the kitchen bell and handed the chef a new order. Gus didn't bring up her brother or the snow-haired customers for the rest of the night, to her thanks, but he took a moment to send Noah a text regarding the veins on her face.

* * *

Kyrie was beginning to rethink the offer Lady and Trish had given to teach her how to shoot a gun. Elanay was much different from Fortuna, and after overhearing Nero's conversation with Dante when they returned to Devil May Cry, she realized the danger they may face during their stay. And she knew Nero couldn't be in multiple places at once; if he was helping Dante take care of a horde of demons and she faced any danger, he'd never forgive himself for not being there to protect her. She owed it to him to take some of the stress off, and when morning came in a few hours, Kyrie would call the girls and ask when they could start practice. She didn't want Nero to know until she could handle herself with a gun to keep him from worrying anymore than he already did, and planned out the excuses she'd use to explain where she'd gone if asked.

She'd only held a gun twice in her life. She was ten the first time, and Credo was supervising her when she practiced shooting at a target at her request. The recoil on the firearm was too strong for her, and after four shots the gun came loose from her hands and slammed into her forehead. The incident frightened her for a while and she swore off touching a gun ever again. The second time was unintentional. After Dante's visit to Fortuna and the subsequent fall of the Order of the Sword, the remaining citizens were scrambling to rebuild their government and restore order. Demons still appeared in the streets and attacked those who dared to walk after dark.  
Kyrie made the mistake of doing so following a late night at the government building. No one was available to escort her home and Nero was out on a late night hunt, leaving her all alone to dash home before any monsters came out of the shadows. She only made it halfway before hell hounds spawned from portals in the street. The gun happened to be laying in the road out of sheer luck, and with no other choice she picked it up and emptied the remains of the clip into the demons. All but three were killed, but luck remained on her side when members of Fortuna's Shield appeared out of nowhere and slew the rest of them. Nero got word shortly after and swore to never stray too far at night ever again.

Unable to sleep, Kyrie rolled out of bed quietly to not wake Nero and wandered to her suitcase. She'd need different clothes if she was going to practice at some sort of gun range, she told herself, and hoped one of the girls would be available to help her pick out something suitable to wear. A sound from outside the glass balcony diverted her attention. It was a growl just loud enough for her to hear over the other city sounds, and the memories of the Fortuna hell hounds flooded back into her mind. Kyrie inched toward the balcony and slid the door open, then crept to the railing and peeked between the metal beams. A figure flipped and danced under the moonlight to avoid the biting monsters chasing them through the street. Bullets flew from a pistol and forced the demons to explode in all directions. One hell hound's heads flew off its body and planted into the wall beside Kyrie's hotel room. She ducked before the body part made impact and shrieked, which woke Nero with a force. He jumped out of bed and threw off his bed sheets as he searched the room for Kyrie. He found her and ran to the balcony, immediately wrapping his arms around her.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," she assured him, and pointed her chin first to the person fighting below, then to the remains of the hell hound sliding down the brick wall next to them. Nero stood up and peered at the figure still warding off the demons, whose numbers were nearing zero. Watching the fighter, he took note of the long black hair floating with each movement, followed by a handspring that revealed a woman's face, and the bullet that caused the charging demon to explode.

His eyes widened. "Azera!" The bartender's focus was ripped from the battle and she darted her eyes to the balcony, spotting Nero and Kyrie watching from above. They distracted her for just long enough to allow the last hell hound to leap and sink its teeth into her shoulder. It pulled her into a pile of full garbage bags on the curb and they were buried underneath the plastic. "Shit!" Nero shot his Devil Bringer's ghost hand out and grabbed onto the nearest street lamp, then jumped down to the road and rushed to where Azera was. His habit of sleeping with Blue Rose on his nightstand came in handy when he retrieved it from his pants and shot all six bullets into the hound before knocking it across the street with his demonic arm. "Are you okay?" he asked, already seeing blood pouring onto the trash bags. He threw a bag out of the way and reached for her neck to assist her in sitting up, hearing Kyrie run to them from behind. The woman skipped to a halt and dropped whatever medical supplies she'd found to the ground at the sight of Azera's shoulder. The skin was ripped like newspaper, revealing the muscle underneath and part of her bone. Kyrie shrieked again as Nero took the bottle of hydrogen peroxide and poured the entire thing onto her wound. She hissed from the stinging and attempted to slap his hand away. Kyrie handed Nero a gauze roll with a shaky hand and helped him begin to wrap her up, but her frame froze when she spotted a portal spawn on the ground. She got Nero's attention and pointed to the red circle, where another pack of hell hounds clawed their way to the surface. Lava dripped from their open jaws as they growled at the trio. Scrambling, the snow-haired hunter bared his teeth and ushered Azera into Kyrie's grasp. He handed her the revolver and stood up. "Whatever you do," he warned with hesitation, "be careful." Without another word a blue glow seeped out of his skin and a horned figment formed over his head. Red flowed into his irises, and a katana emerged from his Devil Bringer. Azera caught a slight glimpse of the weapon when her eyes opened, then of Nero's refined form, and she pushed against Kyrie to stand up.

Kyrie had difficulty balancing between aiming at the hell hounds and keeping Azera in her arms. Nero's gun was heavier than she expected, and she needed both hands to shoot. The half-conscious Azera was added weight in her arms and threw off her aim, causing her to shoot at windows instead of the demons. Having the injured woman fight against her hold made things worse, and Kyrie decided to just let her go. "Stay behind me," she commanded in a shaky voice, wrapping both hands around the revolver's handle. She cocked back the hammer and aimed at an approaching demon, doing her best to ignore its growls and focus on the reducing space between them. She fired once, and the bullet hit the asphalt by its foot. A second time, it hit the hound's leg. It squealed for a moment before crouching in preparation to launch, and when it was airborne, Kyrie fired again. The demon exploded and guts flew everywhere, some landing by her shoes.

Kyrie's shaking hands lost their grip on the gun and it hit the ground. She sank to her knees a second later, her chest heaving from having her life flash before her eyes. She almost didn't notice another demon sneaking up on them, and only became aware when the monster was blown to bits. Kyrie glanced to the left and saw a gun-wielding hand and arm hovering over her shoulder. Azera panted and staggered when she lowered her arm. "You've got guts," she began, "but you're still reckless." She eyed Nero, his demonic glow gone, approaching before swaying where she stood and falling sideways. He caught Azera before she hit the ground and hoisted her up.

"We should get her to Dante's place-"

"Don't," she managed to groan. Azera pushed herself out of Nero's grasp and held onto a street lamp with her good arm. Blood leaked out from the gauze wrapped around her shoulder, and combined with her overheated skin, Nero wondered how she was managing to move. Was it the demon venom messing with her pain receptors? With everything he'd heard about her it was a possibility, and so was the fear that she'd bleed out if she kept fighting their care. For the moment he let her be, but stayed beside her and fished his cellphone out to alert Dante on the latest demon appearance. The bartender stumbled down the street, ignoring Kyrie and Nero's presence, and leaned over a dumpster to puke. Purple clumps plopped on top of the trash, and when she turned around, her darkened veins were visible. Their stares lingered for longer than what she found comfortable. "What?"

Sensing Kyrie's distress, Nero spoke up for both of them while picking up his revolver. "The poison's effects are showing. I don't have anything on me to heal you, but Dante might."

Azera sheathed her pistol. "That shit tastes nasty. I'll take my chances with the alcohol at my house." She flicked her fingers to shoo them away and turned around to walk home. Neither of them liked the idea of her walking in the middle of the night, and when Nero tried grabbing her wrist, Azera's foot flew up and caught him in the face. He skid backwards and held his swelling cheek as he glared at the bartender, who lowered her leg and pushed her hair back in place. "No offense, but I've got enough babysitters leeching on me. This isn't my first rodeo, kid. I'd shift my focus to your little girlfriend if I were you. Get her out of here while things are still calm before you get her killed." Her point made, the bartender spun on heel to get home.

Kyrie helped Nero to his feet. "That looks bad," she commented when examining his cheek. "Her heel cut you."

"I'll be okay." He wiped a streak of blood from his lip. "I don't know how Dante's going to deal with her." Nero wrapped an arm around Kyrie's waist and led her back into their hotel. They made plans to visit Devil May Cry in the morning to report to Dante. And when morning came, they discovered a grouchy demon hunter hunched over his desk and reassembling one of his guns.

"You look like you had a shit night," he commented.

"No thanks to your bartender," Nero retorted. "She's fucking crazy."

Dante snorted a sarcastic laugh. "Thank you for noticing. I assume she gave you a lot of trouble when you offered her help."

"She kicked me in the face!" And then Dante really laughed. "It's not funny! A hell hound ripped her shoulder open and she was bleeding all over the place. If she's laying in the middle of the street somewhere, that's the end of your search, and that succubus could go after anyone else in the city."

"I get it," Dante intervened, resuming his serious demeanor. "I called her brother before you walked in to get her address. I'm headed over there now to check on her." He pushed himself out of his chair and grabbed his freshly cleaned twin guns to holster. "I doubt she'll put up much of a fight in her own house, but you never know." Reaching for the door knob, he stopped in place and glanced at Kyrie. "You're welcome to come, but I think you'll be more comfortable seeing the sights after last night. Lady's almost here if you want to wait for her."

Kyrie nodded. "That's alright with me." Nero was wary of leaving her side again after the previous night, even with Lady's protection. Sensing his hesitation, Kyrie held his hand between hers. "I'll be just fine. You know Lady is strong." He took a few seconds to agree with her and he caressed her cheek in silence, then gestured his head to Dante to leave.

Azera's residence was surprisingly close to Dante's, much more than he realized. Noah informed him that her apartment was on the top floor of a ten-story complex about two miles from the Crimson Flame. It left plenty of space for her to be stalked by the demons of the night, especially the succubus. The city was accustomed to demon attacks and always bounced back from the damage they caused. Evidence of demon attacks were scarce to find after sunrise, but nothing could hide the scent of blood Nero and Dante could easily separate from the rest of the city smells. It was heavy as they ascended to the top floor in the elevator, and the men spotted a few dried drops on the carpeted floor. It strengthened through the hall when they got off, and three doors from the end of the hall, Azera's apartment door had a bloody hand print by the peephole. Dante knocked on the door four times and listened for movement. Something shuffled on the other side - the bartender, they assumed, and when the door swung open they were relieved to see the bartender awake and alert.

"Great," Azera huffed when she met their waiting gazes. "What brings the babysitters to my doorstep? I'm sure Noah bypassed my privacy to give you the address." She rubbed her eyes and leaned on the left side of the doorway, throwing her hair off her shoulders. The sight where, just hours before her flesh was torn apart, lacked any signs of a severe injury. Her shoulder was flawless, just like her face was shortly after the beating she endured at the hands of her former boyfriend weeks earlier.

"...Your shoulder..." Nero pointed at her and turned to Dante. "I swear, she was ripped apart like a rag doll last night." A normal person wouldn't have believed him, but Dante was more than aware of the effects of accelerated healing. Though with what he knew of the succubus' poison, her body shouldn't have healed fast at all.

The way the men were staring at her was disturbing her. "Okay...is something wrong?" She followed their line of sight to her shoulder. "Oh...yeah, that happened last night. Sorry for kicking you in the face, kid, but I don't like being grabbed."


End file.
